The Martyr, the Victim
by Thorn of the Dead Gods
Summary: Cersei Cousland has been trying to do whatever it takes to save Ferelden. When she spares Loghain, though, it costs her one of the best friends she has ever had. Will this man, who used to be her hero, be worth that loss?
1. Chapter 1

So here is my Dragon Age story. I went back to reread what I have already written on this site, so I could refresh my memory and continue writing again. Upon reading it, however, I was quite dismayed to discover several edits I had already completed were suddenly gone, and my author's notes were disappeared as well. It is... quite annoying. If you happen upon this story, and find any mistakes while reading, please let me know so I can correct them! Also, I do not own Dragon Age or any associated things. I also borrowed the name Cersei (but not the attached personality) from George R. R. Martin (as I'm sure more people are now aware than when I first started this story).

* * *

With a final clash on metal on metal, the fight was over. Loghain felt a sharp pain flare in his ribs and stumbled down to his knees. As Cersei Cousland began to raise her sword, presumably to finish him off, he looked up at her and spoke.

"Enough, please. I yield to you."

Cersei stood for a moment appraising him, then sheathed her sword. "I accept your surrender, Loghain Mac Tir."

Before Loghain could attempt to rise up from his kneeling position, Alistair's angry shouts began to fill the room.

"WHAT?! I didn't just hear you say that? You can't seriously mean that! He killed Duncan, he killed Cailan, and he's been trying to kill us for months. He deserves to die!"

Riordan stepped forward from the shadows before Alistair could continue. "I have a solution. Put him through the joining. There are… compelling reasons to have as many Wardens as possible on hand, and we number only three."

As Cersei tilted her head in thought, Anora spoke up. "Will that not be a sufficient compromise? It is my understanding that the joining itself is often fatal. If he survives, you will have a seasoned general join your ranks. If he does not, he will have death as a punishment. Surely this is acceptable?"

If anything, this enraged Alistair further. "What? No! Becoming a Warden is an honor, not a punishment! I will not accept him as a brother. Don't you remember him outlawing the Wardens? Declaring us traitors?"

Cersei closed her eyes wearily, not wanting to meet Alistair's gaze. She knew what he expected her to do, and she wasn't ready for the hate she would surely see in his eyes when she did not do it.

"Alistair..." she began, barely meeting his eyes before just as quickly looking away. "We need to do this. Riordan is right, there are only three Wardens in all of Ferelden. The odds are already heavily stacked against us – we must do whatever we can to stop this Blight. If that includes accepting a former enemy as an ally, than that is what I will do."

Sure enough, animosity began to flood Alistair's face. "Then you will do it without me. I will never call this man brother. I... I am leaving the Grey Wardens to become king. And yes-" he said, seeing the worried look that sprang to Anora's face "-I will still marry Anora and rule Ferelden by her side, even though it means I shall daily see a reminder of her father."

Anora allowed a brief, rueful smile to pass over her face before reaching over and laying a hand on Alistair's arm. "Alistair," she said. "Compose yourself. We will discuss this more later."

Cersei's face remained impassive, but inwardly she felt a keen sense of relief. She had been afraid Alistair would try something more drastic... such as beheading Loghain, and perhaps Anora, if she stood in his way.

As Anora began to address the Landsmeet, Cersei extended her hand to Loghain to help him up. As he stood, Riordan sidled up to Cersei, pointedly ignoring the glare Alistair was sending their way. Cersei could barely hear his lightly accented voice as he spoke, and had to lean close. "Well Warden, we have a joining to prepare."

They both turned to Loghain again. Riordan looked him over appraisingly before asking, "Are you ready?"

With the barest hint of a sneer, Loghain replied, "Do I have a choice?"

Cersei opened her mouth to reply, but then thought better of it. Instead, she looked over to her companions and beckoned Wynne over to them. Her friends were all murmuring amongst themselves, not doubt wondering when her sanity had taken leave. Though Wynne looked slightly murderous, she hesitated for only a moment before hurrying over to Cersei's side.

"What is it, child? Are you hurt?"

"No, Wynne, though I thank you for your concern. I am actually worried about Loghain – I think my final blow may have been more serious than I thought at the time."

Loghain interrupted Cersei with a snort. "I do not need any care from this mage. You are not so strong as you think, girl."

Even as he spoke, though, Cersei noticed that he was lying through his teeth. He was still not able to breathe properly, his face was losing color, and she noticed that a small pool of blood was starting to form around his foot. The blood sent a flash of panic through her, there and gone again before she could blink. She felt a moment of detachment from the situation, then came back to herself when she realized the Landsmeet was applauding wildly.

Wynne had her eyes narrowed at Loghain, and said, "He does not want my help, therefore I am rather... disinclined to give it."

She started to turn away, but stopped when she felt Cersei's hand on her arm.

"Wynne, please. The old fool is being stubborn, much as he has been for the last year." Loghain snorted again, and she lowered her voice so Loghain would not hear. "Look near his foot, Wynne. I believe his life is bleeding out of him. Please help him before the loss of Alistair becomes an empty sacrifice."

Wynne glanced down and her brows furrowed in sudden concern. She looked back at Cersei and observed Anora coming toward them, a look of concern on her face. Alistair was nowhere to be seen.

Cersei noticed that Loghain was becoming unsteady on his feet just as Wynne spoke.

"Cersei, please help me escort Teyrn Loghain to a room where I can examine the damage you did to him."

Anora reached them just as Loghain's knees buckled. She let out a gasp, fearing her father would fall, but Cersei's quick reflexes prevented Loghain from hitting the floor. She rushed forward and placed her shoulder under his arm and braced herself. His weight momentarily made her stagger, but after a moment she found her balance and lifted him back upright.

Though clearly close to unconsciousness, Loghain was still able to grumble about the ridiculousness of it all. "It's just a flesh wound, girl. Kindly let me go before..."

Loghain's eyes rolled up into his head, and his full weight slumped against Cersei. Unprepared for it, she fell to her knees with Loghain's arm still wrapped around her shoulders. Riordan and Wynne both started forward, but Anora was faster. Kneeling beside her father, she met Cersei's gaze and nodded. Together, they stood and began walking towards the exit. Wynne rushed after them and took the lead, guiding them down the hall to a lushly decorated sitting room.

Anora and Cersei lowered Loghain onto a rather large couch, and Wynne immediately stepped forward and placed a hand on Loghain's forehead. Her eyes closed and a blue glow began to emanate from her hand. Cersei reached forward and worked to undo Loghain's breastplate, knowing Wynne would need clear access to his wound. When she was finished and had lifted it off him, she inhaled sharply. His wound was deep and wide; she didn't know how she had been able to cut him so deeply. She could see the pale gleam of bone through the gash. Picking up his armor again, she saw what she had missed before – her dragonbone sword had punched right through his infamous armor. Turning it over, she saw jagged edges around the hole and knew what caused the ragged appearance of his wound.

Hearing a choked sob, she turned to see Anora standing with her eyes glued to her father. Tears were beginning to trickle down her cheeks. Tearing her eyes away from him, she noticed Cersei watching her and attempted to compose herself. She struggled for words for a moment before speaking.

"My father... my father is a good man. Please... don't let him die before he can redeem himself."

Cersei hesitated, then nodded. "We will save him, Anora. I promise."

Wynne had shifted her attention to the opening in Loghain's side, and both Anora and Cersei could see the flesh knitting itself back together. Within moments, it was healed completely with only the barest trace of a scar. Wynne let out her breath and slumped over, momentarily out of energy. Cersei leaned forward and laid her hand on Wynne's back.

"Wynne, why don't you go find a room to rest in? We can take it from here."

Wynne glanced up at Cersei and smiled. "Thank you, child. I am wearied beyond belief. Rest would be welcome." She stood slowly, and walked toward the door. "If you need me, just wake me," she said as she closed the door.

Cersei stared at the door for a moment, then noticed she was still holding his bloodied breastplate and set it aside. She turned to contemplate the man laying before her, feeling very conflicted about everything that had just happened.

Was she wrong to show mercy? Was she cheapening the Grey Wardens, as Alistair seemed to believe? No... she believed no one was beyond redemption as long as they sincerely worked for it. But he did try to kill them... Then again, so did Zevran, and look how loyal he was now. Of course, maybe she was just refusing to believe that the man who was her childhood personal hero could be past the point of redemption.

Anora could practically hear the turmoil that was roiling Cersei's thoughts. After several minutes, she politely cleared her throat, hoping to gain the Warden's attention. It worked. Cersei's head turned lazily toward her, a distant look in her eye. Their gazes met briefly, but Cersei finally dropped her eyes and sighed.

"Your majesty..." she began, but Anora cut her off.

"Please, call me Anora. I owe you a great debt... there is no need for formalities between us."

"Anora, then. I'm sorry this happened. I didn't realize I had injured him so grievously..."

"Thank you for that Warden, but there is no need to apologize. He is here now, healing, because of you. I expect his recovery will be full. I have to ask though, why you spared him. I thought, surely, your closeness to Alistair would have led to a different decision on your part."

Cersei felt a flush of guilt. Alistair...

She took a moment to compose her thoughts before she answered. "Anora... Alistair and I certainly were close. We spent many months being the remaining two members of an already exclusive order. With his superior fighting skills and, well, goofy sense of humor... he reminded me of my brother. And I came to love him like a brother – although I'm sure at one point Alistair would have liked it otherwise."

She trailed off, before sighing heavily and continuing. "The fact is, I would never deny mercy to someone who deserved a second chance. It doesn't matter that Alistair is... or was... the closest thing to a family that I had left. Your father is the reason we were born free. He has done great things with his life, and though he has lost his way of late, he can _still _do great things. Frankly, I can think of no greater thing than ending the Blight."

Cersei was shaking slightly from the strength of her own convictions. She felt curiously lighter, and realized she firmly believed she had done the right thing sparing Loghain. She would not let herself regret it.

Anora smiled softly, and said, "Thank you Warden. Would that everyone else will have faith such as you in the days to come."

Cersei decided it was time to leave. Motioning Anora nearer to the couch, she murmured, "Sit with your father. When he wakes, find me or Riordan."

She glanced down at Loghain again, and began to reach for his face, to brush some of his black hair away. She caught herself, however, and turned to exit the room without another glance.

* * *

Loghain awoke slowly, without opening his eyes. His head was pulsing, his veins felt as though fire flowed through them, and he had a bitter burnt-copper taste in his mouth. He had been… dreaming. And not pleasant dreams - hunting, his old mabari hound, Anora as a child. No, these were dreams of darkspawn (which he had already encountered) and the metallic screech of a dragon in the Deep Roads (which he had not). He suspected the dragon was, in fact, the Archdemon.

He had woken from sleep after his near fatal injury to find Anora sitting with him, smiling happily at his recovery. Then before he could even fully grasp the situation (The _Warden_ saved him? Would wonders never cease?) he had been led to a small room and made to swallow darkspawn blood. Up until that point, he had always thought dwarven ale to be the worst taste imaginable.

As his vision of the room began to coalesce into solid images, he realized the female in front of him was not his daughter, but was in fact the Cousland girl. Although really, he probably should not refer to the first person to best him in years as a mere 'girl.' She was clearly a grown woman - and a phenomenal fighter. Accustomed as he was to the fair skin and honey colored hair of Anora, the Warden presented something of a shock to his eyes. Her dusky skin gave the appearance of a life lived completely out of doors, and her hair was a deep red - the color of the darkspawn blood he had recently imbibed. Her eyes were a beautiful contrast to her hair. They were a brilliant emerald, and she coated her eyelids with purple paint that emphasized the green. As much as he hated to admit it, she was breathtaking. It made him feel like a dirty old man.

Closing his eyes, he cleared his throat and said, "Warden. Is there a reason you are staring? Have I taken on the appearance of the Archdemon?" Opening his eyes again, he turned to her and noticed she had flushed slightly - or maybe a great deal, it was hard to tell with her. She was still staring, but now took the opportunity to speak as well.

"Welcome, brother."

Loghain snorted. "Brother, indeed. I am old enough to be your father."

"Perhaps, but you are not. You will, however, be father to another Theirin soon enough."

He grimaced slightly. "Do not remind me of the unfortunate circumstances I find myself in now."

Now it was Cersei's turn to snort. "Unfortunate circumstances? Forgive me if I do not share your pessimism. See, I consider you _quite_ fortunate. Your life was spared, your daughter remains queen AND gains a king who is much less likely to die in pursuit of glory… and now you are a Warden, and in a much better position to end the Blight. Which, of course, you have firmly presented as being at the top of your to-do list."

Loghain began to form a retort, but stopped as a realization sunk in.

"Pursuit of glory…?" He knew he had a surprised look on his face, but couldn't seem to lower his eyebrows. He instead sat upright on the couch and spun to face her. "I did not hear you correctly?"

Cersei wanted to laugh at the look on Loghain's face. In all her years, even thinking back to the lighthearted banquets and parties she had attended in Denerim growing up, she had never seen him without a dour expression on his face. She refrained, however, suspecting it would only serve to offend him.

"Loghain," she began, only to trail off. She was amazed at how quickly her anger and resentment had left her. She now felt only a trace of the rage she previously had towards him. Then again, maybe she was just too exhausted from months of being the only person who was truly carrying the burden of the Blight.

She began again. "Loghain, I have had a lot of time to consider what happened at Ostagar. Right after it happened, I was as set on revenge against you as I was against Rendon Howe. But… I have spent many sleepless nights since replaying the events over and over. It is still hard to accept what happened, but I finally understand. I was there, after all-I remember you warning Cailan quite explicitly what would happen. He didn't even wait for Redcliffe's forces… and I don't know why. Instead, he goaded you into the battle by dangling threats of Orlais." She paused again, a shadow of memory passing over her face before she continued.

"There was no way to win that battle. Your retreat seemed so… _self-serving _at the time, but now… I've had to face difficult choices of my own to unite the land against the Blight. Some choices aren't easy, but they are for the greater good." Now her eyebrows began to draw together. "But, by the Maker, Loghain! Did you really have to declare the Wardens traitors?!"

"And how was I to know any better? Your commanding Warden was an _Orlesian_. Do you know what his brilliant tactical strategy entailed? He invited MORE Orlesians in! I did not fight for this nation only to hand it right back to them at the first threat to Ferelden. We do not need them."

"Well, I certainly agree that we do not need them… now that I've raised an army here. But," she halted, anger melting off her face and being replaced by confusion. "I thought Alistair said Duncan was from Highever?"

Loghain looked at her like she was a fool. "Even if he _was_ born here in Ferelden, he came back here from Orlais. Use your head, girl, Wardens were outlawed in Ferelden until just after you were born. Besides… I knew him from a fool expedition Maric went on with the Orlesian Wardens - just before the Wardens were allowed back into our country."

Loghain stopped talking, noticing that Cersei's face was suddenly clouded with anger. "Do not address me as 'girl' again. I doubt a mere girl would have been able to give you a near-fatal wound in armed combat. You may address me as Warden for now… or Commander, because that is what I am to you. Understood? And for the record, Loghain, Wardens have no nationality. Orlesian, Antivan, even a bloody Tevinter… once you undergo the Joining, it isn't about where you're from anymore. We have bigger problems."

Loghain felt a grudging respect rise in him at her response. She had a point; not only had she bested him, but he supposed she actually was his superior now. And technically, the Archdemon was probably a bigger problem than a few chevaliers with thick accents and a love of fine silks. Realizing Cersei was waiting for a response, he said, "Yes, commander. I… understand."

Cersei rose suddenly, saying, "Excuse me a moment." Then she walked across the room and poked her head out the door, speaking in low tones before shutting the door again. She stood there a moment, watching him, before smiling.

"I'm having some food brought in for you. No doubt you woke with quite an appetite - just another side effect of the taint. I assume you dreamt… unpleasantly?"

He _was_ rather hungry, now that he thought about it.

"Yes, I did dream. I assume the ghastly purple creature resembling a high dragon was our nemesis?"

"The Archdemon?" One of Cersei's eyebrows quirked upward. "Yes… we actually saw it once, in the Deep Roads. It's only a little larger than a high dragon, but otherwise they are very similar."

"A little larger? How in Andraste's name do you even know the size of a high dragon?"

"Oh, we've killed two. Although technically, one was actually a witch who shape shifted to a dragon… see, this armor is made from some of her skin. A bit morbid, perhaps, but it's amazingly resilient." She held up one of the straps of her dragonskin skirt.

Loghain knew he looked surprised again. "You were right, Warden. You definitely should not be considered a mere girl. I may have underestimated you."

Cersei smiled - her first genuine smile toward him. It gave her a small dimple and laugh lines around her eyes. "Of course you have, Loghain Mac Tir. In fact, I daresay you've met your match in me."

A knock came at the door and Cersei went to collect his food. Loghain watched her with a bemused expression; he rather thought he was inclined to agree with her assessment. Still smiling, she brought his tray of food to him and said, "I'll leave you to your meal. Rest a bit more, if you'd like - I'll come for you later."

With that, she left him with his thoughts. Closing the door behind her, she took a deep, steadying breath. When the elven servant had brought the food, she had informed Cersei that the new king-to-be had requested her presence. The elf - Cersei thought her name was Ismene - pointed wordlessly down the hall to the door at the end.

"Thank you," she said, before forcing herself to walk that way. She was nervous; after all, she had not spoken to Alistair once in the three days since the Landsmeet. Instead, she had been avoiding everyone (with the exception of Zevran, who alone of all her companions seemed to understand her deep well of compassion and forgiveness), and hovering around Loghain. First, to see that he truly would recover from their duel and second, to talk in private. In fact, she would probably be speaking with him still, if not for Alistair's summons.

Despite everything that had happened during the events at Ostagar, and in the time since, she found herself easily letting go of her anger. She knew she could not hold a grudge against Loghain or his tactics, especially in light of some of her own actions since becoming a Grey Warden. She had killed a group of starving refugees in Lothering, simply because they wanted coin to feed their families. She had spared and even accepted Zevran into their group, though he had tried to kill them. And who could forget Bhelen? He was now King of Orzammar by her hand-even though she knew he had killed both of his brothers in pursuit of the throne. But, she knew he was best for Orzammar's future. Lord Harrowmont had been too weak, and too… set in stone. (At that thought, she inwardly gave a snort at her own clever pun.) Why did Alistair have such a consistent inability to see the big picture?

Squaring her shoulders, she knocked with some trepidation on Alistair's door. His reply was immediate.

"Come in."

Cersei hesitated for a moment, then remembered who she was. She was the last Cousland, who had managed to avenge her slain family. She had killed two high dragons during her travels, and had gathered armies from across the land… Suddenly she wasn't afraid. After all that, what could Alistair possibly do that was worse?

* * *

Alistair heard the knock and hurriedly sat up straighter, saying, "Come in," as he smoothed his shirt. He thought about removing the scowl from his face, then decided to leave it in place. Let her see just how angry he was. He wanted her to hurt as much as he did. How dare she let Loghain live, let alone make him their-no, _her_ brother?

Cersei stepped in and shut the door behind her. "You wanted to see me, Alistair?"

Alistair motioned to a chair across from him, saying, "Have a seat, Warden. And you will refer to me as 'Your Majesty.' Or have you forgotten already just what you've done to me?

Cersei managed not to make a face, but her jaw line did tighten perceptibly. Her voice lost all vestiges of warmth as she replied, "Forgive me, Your Majesty."

Alistair couldn't keep the smug grin off his face. "Now Warden, I called you in here to discuss one simple question with you."

Cersei cut in. "Let me guess: what was I thinking?"

Alistair flushed darkly. That had, in fact, been what he wanted to ask. However he wasn't going to have _her _running this conversation. He decided to switch tactics and get really nasty.

"Hold your tongue! Can you not keep silent until your King tells you to speak?"

Cersei narrowed her eyes and grated out, "Yes."

"Yes what, Warden?"

"Yes… Your Majesty."

Alistair felt a perverse sense of glee at the look on her face. He was rather surprised at that. He and Cersei had been so close, and now he only felt bitter animosity toward her. He wanted her to squirm, he wanted her angry… but most of all, he wanted her to cry.

Alistair sneered at her and said, "Actually, _Warden_, I just wanted to ask if you were going to be as loyal a general as Loghain was. Tell me, is your strategy in the coming battle going to be the same as his was at Ostagar?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Al-Your Majesty! This is not the same and you know it. Our army is far larger this time. And frankly…" she paused, knowing what she said next would anger him as she never had before. "I agree that Loghain's decision at Ostagar was harsh, but it is what had to be done. I may not like what happened, but I respect Loghain's decision and I respect _him._ He made the right decision, difficult though it may have been!"

Alistair exploded out of his chair, screaming, "How can you say that? What in Andraste's name is wrong with you?! He killed Cailan, he killed Duncan, and he killed half our army!"

Cersei cut him off again. "No, the darkspawn killed them! And yes, half our army was lost, because we were completely outnumbered. Had Loghain not pulled out, we would have lost the half that was under his command, as well. We would have still been without a king, or Duncan, but there would have been thousands more families mourning their lost soldiers. Be reasonable, please!"

Alistair started moving around the desk toward her, anger suffusing his face. Cersei stood, but shrank back a bit in spite of herself. Alistair grabbed her bare upper arms and started shaking her.

"Have you completely lost your mind? With his forces we could have won the battle! We would still have Duncan and Cailan, we would have ended the Blight already, and I would not be stuck as King!"

Cersei winced. His grip was strong, and he was hurting her. "Please, Alistair… you weren't there… you don't know…"

He squeezed tighter, angrier than he could recall being in his life. The sharp edges of the gauntlets encasing his fingers began to pierce her flesh.

"ARE YOU MAD?! Have you forgotten that I fought by your side through the Tower of Ishal?"

Cersei flinched again, but stood firm. Her lower lip was starting to quiver, though - she was frightened and hurt. She had never seen Alistair in such a state.

"That's not what I meant. You were not at the meeting before the battle… with Duncan, Loghain, and Cailan. Loghain told Cailan to wait, to stay off the front lines. And Duncan was waiting for support from Orlais, but Cailan insisted-"

"YOU LIE!" With that, Alistair threw her back, meaning to push her into the chair. But he pushed too hard, and she went flying back, knocking the ornately heavy chair over. She let out a scream that was abruptly silenced when her head struck the stone floor. Alistair stopped, suddenly shocked at his actions. He stared at Cersei's immobile form, and noticed for the first time what he had done to her arms. He had just enough time to murmur, "Bloody Maker," when his door flew open.

* * *

Loghain had been in his room, mulling over his conversation with Cersei, when he heard the shouting begin. He wasn't particularly interested in hearing another argument, but he was able to make out a few snippets of it nonetheless.

"…I respect Loghain's decision, and I respect _him_…"

"How can you say that… he killed Calian!…"

"No, the darkspawn killed them…"

"ARE YOU MAD?"

A brief pause followed this last - thirty seconds, perhaps, and then the final shout - "YOU LIE!"

Then Loghain heard Cersei scream, but it was quickly cut off. He was out the door before it ended though, and moving rapidly down the hall. The scream had come from behind a door that he recognized as one of Maric's many "studys"-basically just a glorified room with an elegant desk. He threw the door open with a bang, and saw Alistair a few feet from Cersei. She was crumpled on the floor beside an overturned chair, and she wasn't moving. Alistair was staring at Cersei. He glanced quickly from Loghain back to Cersei, and then gave a guilty start as he realized just who was in the room with him. He turned his head toward Loghain again, but refused to meet his eyes.

Loghain moved over to Cersei's side and noticed there was blood on her upper arms. He gave Alistair a disgusted look as he knelt to scoop her up in his arms. Bracing himself, he stood and turned to glare at Alistair again.

"I suppose I am no longer the only one to betray the Grey Wardens."

Alistair turned away from him, too ashamed to form a reply. He couldn't even look at Cersei right now. He didn't know if it was due to shame from hurting her, or if it was from the anger that still burned through him.

Loghain narrowed his eyes before rushing from the room, shouting for the mage. Behind him, Alistair stood alone, looking lost and defeated.

* * *

Loghain hurried into his room and gently placed Cersei on his bed. He was angry - with Alistair for losing control, with Cersei for provoking Alistair, and most of all with himself. He should have known better than to let Cersei go alone. Certain traits of the Theirin bloodline could be… less than pleasant when displeased. Honestly, though, he was more angry at himself for caring so much one way or the other. Why should it bother him so much that Cersei was injured? After all their previous animosity toward each other - or at least _his_ hostility toward _her_ - it took only one smile from her before he was setting those feelings aside and sassing the new king on her behalf.

A slight movement from the bed drew his attention, and he realized he was pacing. He forced himself to stop and refused to acknowledge the import of that. After all, he only paced at times that he was effectively drowning in misgivings and fear. He watched Cersei closely, looking for more signs of life. He heard a thick moan coming from her, before her body gave a sharp jerk. He turned toward the door, intending to poke his head out and yell for the mage - Wynne was her name - but Cersei began to convulse before he could move.

Panic gripped Loghain, and he started screaming for Wynne even as he moved to hold Cersei down. Her eyes snapped open, revealing the whites only. The brilliant green pupils had rolled completely back into her skull. He heard running footsteps, but did not turn. He was afraid to look away from her, afraid that if he was not watching and holding her down she would be lost. However, when he heard a strangled gasp he couldn't help but turn - just in time to see Alistair fleeing the room. Almost immediately, he heard what sounded like a collision, followed by Wynne's voice.

"Alistair? What's going on…?" From the sound of it, Alistair kept going without bothering to answer. She stepped into the room and stopped, gasping, before rushing forward. She turned a glare to Loghain, asking, "What happened?" even as she reached for Cersei.

"Why don't you ask your new king, woman?"

A blue glow began to surround Cersei, and Loghain felt a rush of magic pass through him as Wynne created a cleansing aura to heal Cersei of her injuries. She immediately stopped convulsing, but started moaning again. Wynne's brow furrowed in concentration, and the glow turned green.

After a tense moment, the moaning stopped and Loghain felt like he could breathe again. Cersei's eyelids began to flutter, but did not quite open. Against his better judgment, Loghain leaned forward and grabbed her hand. He felt her fingers gently squeeze as Wynne stepped back and took a seat, clearly wearied.

Cersei's eyes opened, and closed again. After another moment, she forced them open and looked around. She saw Wynne first, and smiled at her. Then she noticed that it was Loghain holding her hand, and got a slightly perplexed look on her face. She looked up at him, speechless.

Wynne broke the silence. "How are you feeling, child? Does your head pain you?"

Cersei nodded mutely, still looking Loghain in the eye, before dragging her gaze away.

"Yes, Wynne. I still have a slight pounding in my skull. And of course, an overwhelming sense of disbelief… But I suppose you can't heal _that_, can you?"

"I'm sorry, dear," said Wynne as she stood and reached for Cersei's head. After a brief pulse of light, Cersei sighed in visible relief.

"Now," said Wynne. "Can I ask what happened? You had a serious injury; who did this?" She gave Loghain another glare as she asked this.

Loghain realized he was still holding Cersei's hand, and dropped it with a grimace. Returning Wynne's glare, he began, "I told you, ask-"

Cersei cut him off. "It was Alistair."

Wynne's mouth dropped. "But, surely…"

"What? I must have provoked him? I may have, but," and her eyes hardened, "he can not use that as an excuse. To be an effective ruler, Alistair will have to learn to listen without letting his emotions color his reactions. Hopefully, this will be a lesson for him."

Wynne looked flustered, but composed herself and said, "I suppose you are right. Still, I can't imagine what could have provoked him. I know how much he cares about you."

Cersei glanced at Loghain's impassive face, but he was looking the other way. She wondered how much he had heard; he obviously heard _something_ or he would not have been here now. She turned her face to Wynne.

"I may have… angered him when I expressed my support for Loghain. And again when I said he made the right choice at Ostagar. And once more when I told him that Duncan was waiting for Orlesian support, and that Loghain explicitly warned Cailan to stay off the front lines."

Wynne was looking at her as though she had recently grown a second head. A very large _demon_ head that was screaming obscenities and must be destroyed.

"Wynne, I know what you must be thinking, but I stand firm in my beliefs. You were not at the king's meeting just before the battle. In fact, only two people still survive who were - myself and my new brother here. So you will have to trust me when I say Loghain is not to blame for Cailan's death."

Loghain had been idly gazing toward the window when he heard this, and he jerked his head sharply to look at her. He did not know what to make of this Warden. He had hounded her across the length of Ferelden, had allowed Rendon Howe to send assassins after her (instead of facing her himself, which would have been the honorable thing to do), and had even allowed Howe to carry out horrible acts in his name. After all that, after all the righteous anger she had displayed at the Landsmeet, she sat here actually _defending_ him. She had lost a man who was a brother to her because of her decision to show mercy, yet she stood up for his honor. Bryce Cousland's little spitfire, indeed.

Wynne chose not to respond, instead pursing her lips before saying, "I believe you are alright now. I shall take my leave."

She stood, but Cersei stopped her. "Wynne, please inform the others that we'll be leaving the palace within the hour. Let's not intrude on the king's hospitality any longer. We can meet at the palace gates."

Wynne inclined her head slightly, and said, "As you wish, Cersei."

She thanked Wynne, and smiled sadly at Loghain as she rose. Wynne had never called her by name before. She couldn't help but feel regret at the rifts this man was causing in her friendships.

"Loghain, I'm sorry you had to hear me yelling at the king."

Loghain snorted. "Don't be sorry, be glad that I was near. Within moments of carrying you to this room, you began convulsing. I suspect your skull was cracked. You are lucky Wynne is so skilled. It is unfortunate she also throws moral judgment around so frequently."

Cersei's smile faltered. "Oh… my skull?"

Loghain felt a brief twinge of _something_ as her smile fell. She looked absolutely exquisite when she smiled. "Just consider us even, Warden. You saved my life, and I yours."

Cersei's smile sprang back to life, this time with no trace of sadness. His pulse quickened at the sight. What a foolish old man he was… but when was the last time a woman such as this smiled at him?

"We are even, aren't we? And what a wonderful trust-building exercise! Now we can get right back to killing darkspawn!"

Loghain rolled his eyes and turned to pack his gear. The slightest hint of a smile crossed his face as she walked out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Again, if someone finds any mistakes, let me know. I don't submit my work to a beta; generally, I can find and fix most of my own mistakes. However, every now and then, I do find one that slips by me. Enjoy. :)

* * *

Cersei woke with a start. She was, at first, unsure of her surroundings. Darkspawn nightmares often did that to her – left her confused and sometimes frightened. Tonight's nightmare was not so bad. At least there was only a montage of darkspawn; sometimes she dreamed of herself as a broodmother, and after those dreams she would wake in tears.

She remembered then where she was – camped just off the North Road out of Denerim. She had decided to finally help Levi Dryden, and was on her way to Soldier's Peak. Loghain had seemed disapproving, but eventually admitted that the old Warden base may have something useful inside. Like perhaps a manual detailing how exactly they were to kill the bloody Archdemon. Riordan still had yet to explain _that _to them.

She lay back for several minutes, but sleep eluded her. Deciding to join whoever was on watch, she slipped out of her tent. Depending on just how late it was, it would either be Sten or...

"Loghain," she said in greeting as she approached the fire.

He looked up from his sword, which he was in the process of cleaning, and replied, "Warden."

Cersei sat across the fire from him, and attempted to find something to say. Since they had left Denerim three days prior, she had felt rather awkward around him. He had see her, his commanding officer, in an extremely vulnerable state. It made her feel as though he would look down on her now. Which was silly, of course. As his commander, she really didn't _need _ to impress him. Of course, it would be nice to impress the Hero of River Dane and (former) savior of Ferelden.

Loghain's voice interrupted her thoughts. "You must think me a monster. You keep trying to kill me, and I refuse to die. Even your Joining didn't kill me."

"I don't think you're a monster."

Loghain chuckled. "You don't lie very well. But I appreciate you saying that, all the same."

Cersei gazed into the fire for a moment, then spoke. "It's not a lie, Loghain. I... I believe you did what you thought was best. I am truly glad you survived the Joining."

He cocked his head at her and considered what she had said. Finally, he went back to polishing his sword and said, "Thank you."

Cersei watched him for a moment, then said, "How long have you had that sword?"

"Many years."

Loghain really was a taciturn man. After a few minutes, when it had become blatantly obvious he would say no more about it, her thoughts drifted to the sword she had in her tent at the moment. When they had returned to Ostagar, they had found both Cailan and Duncan's weapons. She had wanted Alistair to keep Maric's blade, but he had insisted on having the sword Duncan had been wielding in his final battle. She still had Maric's sword, but she did not use it. As much as she admired the blade, she didn't feel it was her place to use it. Loghain, on the other hand, had been Maric's best friend and right hand man...

"Excuse me, Loghain. I shall return in a moment."

She hurried back to her tent, and as she walked she became more confident in her decision. Loghain should wield this sword. When she reached her tent, she stepped inside and dug around for the sword. She pulled it out and admired it; it really was a beautiful blade. It was old, but the enchantments on it kept the blade razor sharp, and the metal was extremely strong. She ran her fingers along it, and then she wrapped it up in cloth and stepped out again.

She approached Loghain hesitantly. She wasn't quite sure how he would react to this gift. He looked up at her with a questioning gaze as she neared the log he was seated on. She sat at his side, and thrust the cloth bundle at him before she could change her mind.

"What is this?" he asked.

"I want you to have it. I can think of no other man worthy of it."

His hand hovered over the cloth for a moment, before yanking it back. She heard his sharp inhale and was pleased.

"This is... this is Maric's sword. The one he found in the Deep Roads."

"Yes, it is. We found it in Ostagar."

Loghain looked at her, and held her gaze. "You returned to Ostagar? To what end?"

Cersei looked down at her hands. "Well, we were traveling through Bann Loren's lands when we found a survivor. Or more accurately, a deserter. I'm sure you remember him... Elric Maraigne?"

Loghain gaped at her. "From Cailan's honor guard? You mean he didn't die at Ostagar?"

She shook her head. "No, and he was inches from death when we found him. He told us, however, that he had buried the key to Cailan's personal chest at Ostagar... and so we went. We fought darkspawn, we recovered Cailan's armor and Duncan's weaponry, and we recovered certain... documents. Personal correspondence of the king. And, of course, we obtained his father's blade from his chest."

Loghain studied the sword in his lap. He remembered when Maric had brought it back from the Deep Roads, after that fool expedition with the Grey Wardens. There was something different about the blade now... Ah, now he saw. When Maric had returned with the sword, the runes engraved in it's surface had been a brilliant blue. Now they were yellow.

He looked up at Cersei again. "You think me worthy of this blade?"

She smiled faintly, and said, "No other man has given more for this country. Not even Maric."

He narrowed his eyes at her. Did she really have an inkling of what he had given up? History books only provided so much information. But then, her father had fought with him. Maybe he and Rowan had not been as discreet as he imagined. That didn't really matter now though, what mattered was that Cersei was looking at him expectantly.

"I'm surprised, Warden. Thank you."

And there was that smile again, the one that made him forget that there was twenty-five years and a river of blood between them. The blood of her family, of the Wardens, of the king and his army. She may think the gap was bridged, but he was not so certain. At this point, he knew only that her thin linen shirt was apparently not providing much protection against the chill night air...

Now she was looking at him with an impish grin. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then finally said, "Do you want to see them?"

"Wh-what?" he sputtered, still thinking about what her shirt was – barely – hiding from view.

She gave him a strange look, and said, "The documents we found. What did you think I meant?"

Loghain felt his cheeks color. "Nothing," he muttered. "If you still have them, I don't see why not. I'm sure they will be entertaining, if nothing else."

Cersei hurried to her tent and came back with several pieces of vellum in her hand. She held them out to Loghain, who hesitated before reaching for them. As he began to read, she sat down on the log next to him to watch his reaction. She thought he would be thrilled – after all, here were letters that justified his fears about Cailan and the Orlesians. However, as he read, his face quickly went from impassive to a scowl. Seeing it, she began to think this had been a bad idea.

He finished the first letter. She knew that was the one from Empress Celene, discussing Orlesian aid marching into Ferelden. Loghain gave her a hard look, then moved on to the next letter. His scowl grew darker as he read Eamon's advice to 'set Anora aside.' He threw that letter aside, and started on the third. Within moments, he had leapt to his feet yelling, "The cheating bastard!"

Cersei started, and almost fell off the log. She looked rapidly around the camp for signs of movement; she was sure his shout had to have woken the rest of the party. Surprisingly, it didn't sound like anyone was stirring. Looking back, she noticed that Loghain was moving towards the woods with a black look of fury on his face. He quickly disappeared into the trees.

She considered following him, but was unsure about leaving the camp unattended. Before she could dwell on it further, however, she heard a voice in her ear.

"My lovely Warden, I think maybe you should follow our taciturn companion, no?" Warm breath tickled her ear, and she recognized the leather and spice scent of Zevran.

She turned to him, and said, "Do you think that's wise, though? He probably thinks I angered him on purpose, just to flaunt my superiority or teach him some kind of lesson. Who even knows what goes on in that head of his?"

He smirked, and replied, "Either that, or I can show you the fine art of Antivan massage. I am a man of many skills, as you already know. Or perhaps you are ready to experience the Antivan milk sandwich?"

Cersei laughed, and gave him a playful shove. "How many times have you already asked me that, Zev? It hasn't worked yet!"

"Fifty noes and one yes means 'yes.' I am eagerly awaiting that word from you, mi amour. Although my chances seem to be getting slimmer, as you so clearly have eyes for another."

Confused, she was about to ask Zevran what he was talking about when she heard a string of curses come from the trees. She gave Zev's shoulder a friendly squeeze before heading toward the sound, his words momentarily forgotten.

* * *

To say Loghain was angry was an understatement. The last time he had been this uncontrollably furious was when Maric had died, leaving his fool of a son on the throne. And now, he had proof that Cailan had been a bigger fool than he thought. How ashamed would Maric have been, to know that within one generation his own son would be willing to hand Ferelden over to the Orlesians again? Not only that, but to become the plaything of the Empress? The only scrap of intelligence Cailan had displayed was in getting himself killed before he could toss aside his queen to be an Orlesian lapdog.

His anger boiled through his veins like a living thing, and he lashed out at the nearest tree. As he should have expected, it hurt. Quite a bit.

"Andraste's flaming bloody _ass_! Damnable bitch!" In his fervor, his mind seized on something the dwarf had said, and it came out before the thought was fully formed.

"Asschabs!"

When he realized what he had just said, some of his anger faded. It was such a ludicrous thing to say, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes at himself. He nearly chuckled, but then he heard the sound of someone moving through the trees. It must be the Warden. He doubted anyone else would actively seek his company, and an attacker would make _some_ attempt at stealth.

"Loghain?" she tentatively called.

He closed his eyes. Perhaps if he could not see her, she would simply go away.

"I know you're here. And did you really say 'asschabs'?" she asked drily.

He stifled a groan. She had actually _heard_ that? This was surely going to rank as one of the more ridiculous moments of his life.

He probably should have kept his mouth shut, but logic flew out the window and he answered her. "Yes, I really said that. I fear my mind has been lost, just as you suspected."

Now that she had a bearing on where he was, she approached rapidly and slid up beside him. She simply stood, watching him, with a guilty look on her face. He realized she was probably expecting him to launch into a tirade, as he had done numerous times before. Ah, well. It wouldn't be the first time he disappointed her.

"Why did you show those to me?" he asked, rather calmly.

Arching an eyebrow – he really wasn't going to yell? – she replied, "Well, honestly, I thought it would help you gain some trust in me."

"What? Did we not already decide we can trust each other with our very lives?"

She snorted. "Yes, I suppose, but I meant... it's just... wouldn't this be easier if I knew you could trust my decisions? Or if we could push past the whole 'former enemies' thing and become... well, friends?"

His brows drew together, and he looked at her in astonishment. "Have you any idea, truly, just how strange you are? Even if you can forget everything else, I was at one point the man who approved the attempt on your life. You wish now to be _friends_?"

"Look at it this way – Zevran was the actual _assassin_, and we're friends now. Beside, Zev already told me that it was Howe who contracted it. You were just a vote of approval. I suspect Howe would have done it anyway, even if you had decided otherwise."

Loghain inclined his head to her, and said, "Alright, point taken. But how would this make me trust your decisions? I fail to see what Cailan's agenda has to do with-"

She cut him off. "Don't you, though? I'm providing you with _actual_ evidence that supports my decision to spare you. I wasn't just being... emotional, or hysterical, like some people believe. I had already read these letters at the Landsmeet, and knew that your paranoia about Orlais had some basis in reality. I didn't just... sacrifice Alistair because you probably know better tactics, or because having you in my group will make idiots run in fear. You have an uncanny ability to see the big picture, and that's what I need right now. The Blight is only part of the big picture, and Alistair couldn't seem to see past it."

Once again, Loghain was moved by this woman. She made a lot of sense, and apparently put a lot of thought into her actions. She was rational, pragmatic, and passionate when she believed in something; she was also as skilled with her words as she was with blades. At the Landsmeet, she had reminded him of Maric, but now... she seemed to embody Rowan's fiery spirit and sensible disposition. And dear Maker, was he actually _attracted_ to this woman? How long had it been since he had felt this stirring in his heart, faint though it may be? He cleared this throat, starting to feel a bit self-conscious. She was still watching him, waiting for a response.

"Alright, Warden. You've convinced me that I can trust in your judgment. But tell me something – after everything that's happened, after all the things I've done or let my name be attached to... why would you ever want to call me friend?"

Cersei laughed. "Isn't it obvious, Loghain? I rather fancy the ego boost that comes from calling the Hero of River Dane a personal friend, as opposed to simply being my personal hero-"

She suddenly cut herself off, and felt her face grow hot. She hadn't meant to reveal he was her hero. It just didn't seem right for her, the commanding officer, to inform her underling that, 'Hey, you are incredibly impressive and I strive to be like you. And by the way, how do you maintain that incredible physique at your age?' No, wait, scratch that last bit.

Loghain froze, and looked at her. The corner of his mouth upturned slightly, and he said, "Personal hero, you say? Still?"

"Uh, well, I... that is to say..." Cersei threw her hands up in the air, and said, "Okay! I admit it! You've always been my hero, and even after all this time, you still are. I know that makes me sound like a sodding fool, but I don't care."

She crossed her arms, started tapping her foot, and gave him a strange look. He had no idea what that meant, though, so he just ignored her and spoke. "I don't think you a fool, but you must realize my reputation is a bit overrated. I'm just a man, after all."

"And that's exactly it, Loghain! You _are_ just a man... yet you almost single-handedly drove out the Orlesians. You made us Fereldans again. And you've been trying to shoulder all the responsibility since the Blight began. Don't you see? You're the only person I know who can possibly relate to what I've had to do these last months. You carry all the responsibility like you carry your armor... and you make it look so easy. And none of my companions really understand how hard it is to make the necessary decisions, to do what needs to be done."

At this, Loghain actually laughed – the first time Cersei could recall him actually doing so. It shocked her into silence. After a moment, he said, "Commander, if I had know just how strong you were in your convictions, and how persuasive you could be, I would have taken you with me when I left Ostagar. You would have been able to sway all of Ferelden into uniting against the Blight. But," and he sobered up again, "if you think it has _ever_ been easy for me, you are sadly mistaken."

"I'm no fool. I said you made it _look_ easy. I know it wasn't. It's what I admire most about you. The people of this nation have felt... safe. For years. And all because you make it look effortless, since defending your country is what you do best. You hide the burdens well, and people love you. You're like a good mother. The mother of Ferelden!"

He grimaced. "Please, never call me that again."

She laughed at that – laughed so hard, in fact, that she had to reach an arm out to brace herself. What she didn't quite expect was her hand missing the nearby tree and landing instead on Loghain's arm. She felt a jolt like lightning at the brief contact (and yes, she did know what _that_ felt like, thank you very much Morrigan) and her laughter dried up. She looked up, into his eyes, before quickly jerking her hand back. He had looked nearly as shocked as she felt (and look, another clever pun by Cersei!). Looking over her shoulder towards the camp, she said, "I suppose we should head back."

With a gesture, he replied, "Lead the way."

In moments, they had reached the campfire. Zevran was sitting on the log previously occupied by Loghain. Cersei and Loghain glanced at each other. She had a question in her eyes, and he very slightly shook his head in response. He would not be joining them at the fire; he instead would be retiring to his tent. Before he could, however, he felt it prudent to retrieve Maric's blade, which was leaning on the log near Zevran.

As he approached the assassin, he was surprised to hear Zevran speak to him. While the elf was not hostile like some of the others, he had not actually gone out of his way to speak to Loghain yet, either.

"So, err...is it Lord Loghain?" he asked, with a smirk on his face.

Loghain resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He probably should avoid alienating the first of these... companions to speak to him in a civil manner.

"I am no longer a teyrn, nor even a knight. Address me without a title, as you would any other Grey Warden," he answered.

Still smirking, Zevran said, "So just Loghain, then?"

Hoping that the elf was going somewhere with this, he said, "Correct. What's on your mind?"

The smirk widened to a rather cheeky smile. "You know who I am, yes? I was one of the Crows you hired to kill the Grey Wardens."

Loghain froze for a split second, and he felt a sliver of something akin to guilt slide down his spine. He recovered quickly. "I thought you looked familiar."

Zevran stood, and bowed slightly. "Well, I just wanted to report that I failed my mission, Loghain."

Now Loghain _did_ roll his eyes. "You don't say." He glanced over at Cersei, and noticed she was trying – not very successfully – to smother a laugh.

The assassin looked back up, his eyes twinkling with mirth. Or perhaps the Crow was being serious, and it was only the firelight reflecting off his eyes. Either way, he spoke again. "I'm terribly broken up over it."

"Hmm," Loghain grunted. "Well thank you kindly for informing me."

At that, Cersei could no longer hold in her laughter. After a moment, Zevran began laughing as well. Loghain stared at them both for a moment, then turned toward his tent. As he walked away, Cersei was certain she heard faint chuckling coming from him.


	3. Chapter 3

Cersei stepped out of the cave, following Levi, and looked around. Her entire party was still with her, luckily – Zevran, Wynne, and Loghain. She didn't know what exactly was to be found at Soldier's Peak, but she felt confident they could handle it. Of course, should they need help, the rest of their party (plus several members of Levi's family) were waiting on the other side of the caves. She walked forward and around a bend, revealing the Keep.

Cersei stopped short, astonished at the sight before her. It was huge, and considering how hard it was to get there, would be easily defended. If she – no, they – survived the Blight, this would be an ideal location from which to rebuild the Wardens.

Levi spoke. "Beautiful, isn't she?"

Cersei wondered, briefly, why men seemed to christen all homes or castles (or in this case, fortresses) 'she.' "It is quite breathtaking," she replied. "But admit it, you were lost a couple times in there."

Levi grinned sheepishly, and said, "The map got soggy."

She snorted, and started walking toward the Keep. They had just passed under a massive stone archway when the world seemed to shimmer and blur, much like looking through a waterfall. They then found themselves standing amidst the spectres of men long dead.

For some reason, Cersei tended to want to faint when faced with the dead. In Denerim's alienage, and again while searching for Andraste's ashes, she had become quite faint but managed to fight it off. Well, that is, until she encountered a shade with the face of her father. As he had faded into blackness, so had she. This time, she struggled with herself and was losing the battle – until Loghain lightly touched her shoulder and looked at her questioningly.

She snapped back to reality, and heard the spirits speak. "Commander, they have enough supplies to last for months! We should turn back."

Another ghost – presumably the commander that was being addressed – answered, "No, we will crush this insurrection! Make camp; we will starve them out!"

The world shimmered again, and the scene disappeared. Levi, looking rather alarmed, said, "Did anyone else see that? What was it?"

Cersei turned to him and said, "I saw something similar in the mage's tower. The Veil is thin here."

"The... Veil?" Levi looked confused.

"It's what separates us from the Fade. It keeps the demons trapped there, unless it is breached."

Levi gulped. "D-demons? I'm glad you're here, Warden."

She grinned, and heard brief laughter from behind her. Probably Zevran; he couldn't resist having a laugh when people showed fear.

The group began to move forward again, with the exception of Loghain. He paused for another moment to admire the Keep. He had, of course, heard of Soldier's Peak – had even dreamed of using it as a base while fighting Orlais. The rebels had never been able to find it, though. He was impressed with the sight before him. This fortress looked better constructed that even Fort Drakon. For the first time, he felt good about becoming a Warden. No one had been here in centuries, and now they would be able to utilize the Keep.

The Warden and her companions were looking up and pointing at various things on the battlements. As such, they did not notice the faint stirrings in the snow – movement, from the earthly remains of soldiers long dead. Loghain saw it, though.

Drawing his sword, he called out to Cersei, "Warden! Trouble is brewing."

She turned to him, and he gestured to the nearest pile of bones. It was now beginning to rise and take shape. How odd, that his first use of Maric's blade would be against the undead instead of darkspawn.

Quicker than thought, Cersei and Zevran had their blades drawn, Wynne was already beginning to cast a spell, and the battle began.

* * *

Cersei wiped her swords clean before replacing them at her sides. There was no blood, but there was a strange shimmery residue on them – some sort of physical evidence of a spiritual manifestation, she supposed. She looked around, and noticed no one had any injuries. The skeletons were rather easy to dispatch. Their fighting skills were obviously rusty from so many years of inaction. And look at her, evaluating the fighting prowess of skeletons... as if they could compare to her and her superior skills! And her party... well, they weren't too bad, either. She preened for a moment, feeling that perhaps she would make a wonderful commander, after all.

Her gaze shifted, and she found herself looking at Loghain. To watch him fight had been – well, rather exhilarating. She had heard of his skill in battle, had even seen him in action at the Landsmeet... but this was better. She had been feeling rather superior since their duel, had been thinking he had lost his touch, but that was clearly not the case. He fought much like Alistair, except he was so much more... _there_. He was everywhere she couldn't be. Alistair had always seemed to devote half his energy to protecting her, as if she wasn't more skilled than he was. Loghain, however, seemed to have full confidence in her ability to take care of herself (or he was hoping she'd screw up and get herself killed). Either way, it left her with more freedom of movement and the feeling that things were getting done faster. The question was, why didn't Loghain fight like that at the Landsmeet? Did he hold himself back, out of some strange sense of chivalry that led from him fighting a woman?

Loghain felt eyes on him, and turned to see Cersei watching him. She gave him a quick smile before turning to talk to Levi again. He allowed his eyes to linger on the curve of her breast beneath her drakeskin armor before pulling out a water flask. It was truly wondrous to watch her fight – she was so strong, yet graceful. She leapt, spun, and twirled while wielding two full size longswords in a beautiful dance of death. When they battled in Denerim, her fighting had been much more straight-forward. Had she fought then as she did today... well, he certainly would not have survived the encounter. Surely she had not learned this style in the last week – so why then didn't she unleash everything she had at him? Did she think he would be too... decrepit to keep up with her? He brow furrowed in thought, and he took another sip of water before moving with the group toward the entrance of the Keep.

Inside the front entrance, they were faced with another spectral scene. They watched, rapt, as Sophia Dryden gave a stirring speech to her troops. Loghain had heard tales of the Warden's rebellion, and had long assumed the Wardens got what they deserved. Now, though, listening to Sophia, he couldn't help but admire what they had done. She was expressing the same sentiments he had himself felt during the rebellion against Orlais. Levi himself was impressed by his ancestor, and told Cersei as much. She smiled at him, of course, but it did not reach her eyes. Weapons at the ready, she motioned them forward again, and they moved into the next room and faced battle.

* * *

Cersei found the door recessed into the wall and inched it open, peering inside to check for more demons. They had just fought a wave of the creatures, after watching another reenactment. Levi was unhappy, having just witnessed his great-great grandmother welcoming the use of blood magic. Cersei wasn't exactly heartless—just pragmatic—and had callously informed Levi that Sophia had just been trying to survive. Levi had been shocked at her words, but now was trying to reconcile survival versus forbidden magic.

She saw a lone figure in the room, and so beckoned the others forward. She approached the desk, and realized just who – or what – was standing before her.

"Who are you?"

"I am the Dryden, commander, Sophia – all of these things."

'Sophia' was little more than a partially desiccated corpse, obviously inhabited by some form of demon. "Levi," said Cersei, "I think we found your grandmother, though she's clearly possessed."

Levi seemed at a loss for words, but then replied, "Either that or she's really let herself go. No, my grandmother is long dead."

The Sophia-demon then spoke again. "This one has an offer for you."

Cersei narrowed her eyes. "And that would be...?"

Zevran suddenly chuckled and spoke. "Oh ho! You are willing to consort with demons? I think, my lovely Warden, that the Crows severely underestimated you. Carry on; this should be good. Don't let me stop you!"

Loghain rolled his eyes at the elf – and he had a sneaking suspicion Cersei did, as well. He did not think making a deal with a demon was a good idea, but he kept quiet. After all, had he not resolved to trust in her decisions?

He heard her ask the demon what it would do if she let it leave. The answer chilled even him.

"Feed."

Cersei stiffened, and Loghain already knew her well enough to know what _that_ meant. A fight was brewing. And, sure enough, he heard the sound of her blades being drawn before another minute had passed.

Though the demon raised more dead soldiers to aid it, the battle did not last long. Honestly, it didn't even last long enough to work up a sweat. Loghain watched, slightly amused, as Cersei began to examine the armor that Sophia's long-dead body had been wearing.

"Loghain," she called out to him. "Come have a look at this."

Sheathing his blade, he approached her. He met her gaze for what was probably an inappropriate length of time before looking down at the armor. It was actually rather beautiful. It was plate armor, heavy yet extremely tough. It had to be dragonbone armor. A large griffon was painted on the breastplate – Cersei loved griffons, so maybe she thought...

"You want to know if I think you could wear this, I presume? This armor is far heavier than you are accustomed to—"

"What? No!" Cersei laughed. "Do you think it could be modified to fit you?"

Loghain gaped at her, somewhat appalled at the thought of donning armor that had been worn by a half-decayed demon.

"I suppose, but why... I don't..." he trailed off, unsure how to proceed.

Cersei laughed again, this time at the look on his face. "Loghain, what better way to prove to Ferelden how you've changed than by wearing this? Putting aside your old armor, won from the Orlesians, in favor of the armor of the Wardens. I can think of no easier way for you to show just how much you've committed yourself to your new life."

Loghain felt a slight warmth surrounding his heart. He was actually rather touched that she was putting this much thought into anything regarding _him_. Idly he reached forward, feeling compelled to touch the griffon emblazoned on the front. Cersei was also reaching for the griffon, and their hands touched. He froze, and looked up at her. She wore gloves, and his hands were gauntleted... but the warmth that had settled in his chest raced lower, regardless. Judging by the slight flush creeping up her neck, she was somewhat discomfited as well. He held her gaze, and slowly began to curl his fingers as if to hold her hand. Her grip began to tighten imperceptibly, until—

They were shocked out of their reverie when Wynne's voice broke the silence.

"We can continue, child. The magical wards that prevented our moving forward have dissipated."

Cersei glanced up at Wynne with a guilty look on her face. "That is wonderful news. Thank you, Wynne; we should move along."

Wynne gave her a suspicious look, before turning and narrowing her eyes at Loghain. He snorted. Cersei Cousland was many things, but 'subtle' wasn't necessarily one of them.

* * *

They had crossed a bridge and entered another tower, and were now poking around a dusty room. There was a large jar on a table, and Cersei was studiously bent over what appeared to be some sort of journal at the same table.

Loghain moved down the short staircase along the side of the room, and tried the door. It was locked. He was looking at the door, wondering if it would be worth the time to break it open, when he heard Cersei slam the book shut. He saw rapid movement from the corner of his eye, and turned in time to see her drinking from the jar. He jerked, horrified at what he was seeing, before moving her way.

"Warden!" he barked out. "Have you no common sense?" As he started to yell, she set the jar down and eyed him warily. She opened her mouth to speak, but a gasp escaped her instead. She then doubled over in pain.

Loghain felt a flash of panic and rushed to her side, Zevran not far behind. She collapsed to her knees just as they reached her side, and Loghain fell to his knees beside her. Unthinking, he reached out and pulled her to his chest, and Zevran laid a hand on her back in support. A low, unearthly 'Ohhh' escaped her lips, and her head fell back. The elf immediately moved his hand to support it. Loghain was terrified; her eyes had rolled up in her head, and it reminded him of her near death in Denerim. And, much like in Denerim, he felt the cool pulsation of Wynne's magic pass through him.

Cersei's body tensed, and then she collapsed limply against Loghain. Zevran tentatively removed his hand, and she shuddered. She then pushed herself weakly away from Loghain's chest. He brought both hands up to her face, and forced her to look at him.

"Cersei, what were you thinking?" That caught her attention, as the last vestiges of pain left her. He was not the type to call her by name.

"Yes, mi amour, I must question the wisdom of drinking unknown substances. I think, dear Warden, I just forgot how to breath." Zevran winked at her.

Her eyes flicked over to the assassin, then to Wynne. They both wore intense looks of concern. She looked back to Loghain as he lowered his hands. Feeling ashamed for making them worry – especially Loghain, whom she had recently reminded to trust her decisions – she lowered her gaze to her lap. She noticed Loghain's hands resting on his thighs, and impulsively reached forward to hold them.

"I am sorry for frightening you." She looked up at Loghain as she said this, but her voice was pitched in such a way that she obviously spoke to them all.

"Just do not do it again, my dear," said Zevran. "Where would I be if your lovely backside was no longer swaying gently in front of me?"

Loghain felt himself bristle at Zevran's words. He told himself he was just irritated at the elf's disrespect towards their leader. Just as he began to imagine the assassin's gruesome murder at his own hands, he felt Cersei give those same hands a gentle squeeze. Glancing at her again, he saw a gentle smile and a twinkle he didn't quite comprehend in her eyes. Feeling a rush at his own daring, he squeezed her hands in return. Her smile widened nearly imperceptibly, and she stood, releasing his hands.

"Let's move on."

Zevran led the way into the next room, but stopped abruptly after a few paces. Cersei came forward and peered over his shoulder, wondering what could possibly stop the hardened assassin in his tracks. What she saw was enough to give her pause, as well.

A wizened old mage stood at the far end of the room, his back to them. Was this Avernus, the Warden mage from the visions they had seen? The same mage who had unleashed the demons, and whose notes she had read before downing that potions? She thought it was, but that confused her more. He wasn't dead; therefore, he should not have shown up in her visions of the dead. Perhaps the visions were just that; not ghosts, but psychic imprints of past events. Either way, the question remained: How was he still alive? It had been over two hundred years. She stepped past Zevran.

With his back still turned, he spoke. "I know you're there, but kindly don't interrupt me."

Cersei narrowed her eyes, but didn't speak. Instead, she moved forward, beckoning her companions forward. After a moment, the mage turned and said, "Why are you here?"

Loghain listened with half an ear while Cersei confidently proclaimed that she was reclaiming the Keep. He silently moved close to her, and eyed the room around them. The mage – indeed, it was Avernus – was prattling on about demons and blood magic, and of course Cersei was playing the role of sympathetic listener. Wynne, of course, was huffing and glaring at the mage. Zevran looked bored, examining his fingernails. His eyes finished circling the room and were about to light on Avernus again when he froze. He realized that he had just seen something odd...

There—nearly hidden in shadows. A section of the wall was adorned with long, undoubtedly sharp spikes. Even worse, there was a body shoved haphazardly onto several of them.

He realized Avernus was walking toward them. As he got close, Loghain saw him move to skirt around their group. Loghain threw a glare his was, but if Avernus noticed he gave no sign. Instead, he resolutely exited the tower through the same door they had used to enter.

He turned back to Cersei, and saw the others were already heading in the same direction. Before she could walk further, he reached out and grabbed her elbow. As she turned to him, he gave her a questioning look.

She glanced over her shoulder, and saw Wynne and Zevran looking at her. She nodded toward the door, indicating that they should continue without her. She looked back at Loghain, and heard the door shut behind them. Arching one of her perfect eyebrows, she bemusedly asked him, "What is it, Loghain? Surely you don't object to ridding our new fortress of its demon presence?"

Well now. He felt a slight thrill at the way she referred to it as 'their' fortress... He tried to ignore it. Now he knew _why _they were following Avernus, but...

"Do you trust him, Cersei?" and he indicated the spikes on the wall.

She smiled slightly. She was rather fond of the sound of her name coming from his lips. Loghain had an incredibly sexy voice, and for the first time she allowed herself to realize she was beginning to wonder how it would sound in the throes of passion.

She gave herself a shake, and looked past him at the wall as she answered. "I trust only you and the other members of our group... and sometimes, not even them.

His brow furrowed, for what felt like the twelfth time that day. She had confounded him, yet again, and why was she always doing and saying things that shocked or confused him?

"You speak as though I am not included in your occasional bouts of distrust."

"That's because you aren't. I trust you always – or you would not be my second-in-command."

Loghain rolled his eyes – another habit he was indulging in rather frequently of late. "I'm your 'second-in-command' because the other Grey Warden did not want the job anymore. Why would you grant me more trust than your closest friends?"

She opened her mouth to answer, but Loghain cut her off. "Never mind. This is hardly the time, I suppose."

"Agreed." She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. His skin tingled below the plate – almost as if it were desperate for the feel of her skin against his... He squelched that thought; she was speaking again.

"...and I trust he won't hurt us. He was – is – a Warden. A _Fereldan_ Warden. Not a bloody Orlesian, like Riordan."

He chuckled drily, and held the door open for her. They had more demons to kill.

* * *

Cersei was sick of demons in general, and desire demons in particular. She couldn't help but hope this would be her last time encountering them – but she knew better. For some unknown reason, those pinkish, seductive desire demons made her see red. Well, actually, she knew why. Even though Alistair and Zevran had killed them as easily as she, it still irked her that they could watch the wenches in such an openly appreciative manner. At least Loghain did not ogle them. Or, if he did, it was well hidden. In fact, it was Loghain who had felled the last desire demon with a disgusted sneer on his face.

Now, after it was all over, Cersei felt the strange sensations of the Veil tear disappearing. Avernus leaned on his staff, obviously exhausted. Wynne was healing a gash on Zevran's thigh – which, Cersei had to admit, was a glorious thigh. She stared at it for a moment, before dragging her gaze away. She caught Loghain giving her a strange look, and felt her face heat. He had better not judge her. She was only staring at the Antivan's thigh because _Loghain's_ thigh was not currently on display... not that she _wanted _to see that particular part of his anatomy, of course... Oh, who was she kidding? She stifled a groan.

Avernus shuffled over to her. "So Warden, have you decided what's to become of me? Am I allowed to continue my research?"

Cersei pushed all thoughts of thighs from her mind, and gave him a winning smile. "Experiment away. Keep me informed of any breakthroughs."

"What?" cried Wynne. "How can you condone this man's actions? This is blood magic we're talking about, Cersei."

Cersei gritted her teeth. Wynne would never understand. Being a Warden required tremendous sacrifice, and accepting any help they could get to ease the pain of those sacrifices. She caught Loghain's eye – he looked irritated as well.

"Avernus, do try and acquire volunteers before resorting to less-savory methods, would you?" she said in a saccharine tone that caused Zevran to snort.

Avernus nodded solemnly, and Cersei turned to go. However, it seemed that Wynne was not done.

"I can't believe you're doing this. You disappoint me."

"Wynne," she replied, "I've made my decision."

The elderly mage narrowed her eyes. "Very well. I'll hold my tongue, but I will _never_ forget what you've done here." With that, she rushed past Cersei. Loghain, feeling perversely irritated at the woman – especially because of the stricken look on Cersei's face – decided to loudly compliment his fellow Warden.

"A fine job, commander. Excellent location, easily defendable... you've done well." He sounded almost surprised at his own words.

Cersei looked up at him with something like gratitude. Then she walked over to him, leaned forward, and whispered, "Thank you," in his ear. A shiver went down his spine, and he could only watch as she turned and headed back toward the room where they had defeated Sophia. Within minutes, she came back with the former commander's armor in her arms, and they headed for the exit of Soldier's Peak.


	4. Chapter 4

Cersei practically flew into the main room of Eamon's estate, her new star-metal sword at the ready. She feared that, despite the messenger's assurances to the contrary, the darkspawn would have breached the walls. She skittered to a stop, though, as Eamon, Teagan, and Anora looked up at her. She heaved an inward sigh of relief upon realizing that everyone was, in fact, safe. She felt Loghain's presence at her side and glanced at him; stoic he may be, but she detected the relieved look on his face as he saw his only child standing safe.

Eamon spoke up. "Wardens, you have arrived not a moment too soon."

"What happened here?" she asked as she slid her swords through the loops on her back. As it had been doing since she left Soldier's Peak, her new sword momentarily caught her eye. Levi's brother, who had been camped outside the caves with the rest of her own party, had fashioned a new blade for her before they left – out of star-metal, of all things. She was still quite entranced by it.

Eamon glanced to his left, and she noticed Riordan. The elder Warden stepped forward, and said, "It appears we were mistaken. The darkspawn march toward Denerim."

Her mouth dropped open in shock. "Why did we think they would march on Redcliffe, then?"

Riordan managed to look chagrined. "It seemed the logical choice, with our armies gathering here." Loghain snorted – as if the darkspawn had ever evidenced 'logic' before. Riordan glanced at him quickly, then continued. "Also, the darkspawn horde ranges far and wide, but most of the darkspawn sightings were in the west. However, I bear dark tidings. I scouted the horde, and ventured close enough to 'listen in,' as it were. The Archdemon has shown itself at last."

Ice settled itself around Cersei's heart. The Archdemon had finally left the Deep Roads—and now led its vast armies against the unprotected capital of Ferelden. "There is no way we can reach Denerim in time. Tell me we have at least sent warning?"

Eamon answered, "Indeed we have, Lady Cousland. However, there is only a token force left in Denerim. I fear the city may fall before we arrive."

Loghain stepped forward, saying, "We must march as soon as possible. When can the army be ready?"

Eamon gave him a skeptical look. He was still wary of Loghain and his decisions. "I have already given orders; we march at first light. A forced march should get us there in two days, not long after the darkspawn horde reaches the city."

Riordan spoke again. "I recommend you and your companions get as much rest as possible. Before you retire, though, I need to speak to you and the former teyrn about Warden business."

Cersei looked at Loghain, and an unspoken conversation took place. Cersei's glance said _Do you think he will finally give us answers?_, while Loghain's raised eyebrow and half-scowl said _He'd better_. Cersei gave him a slight nod and turned back to Eamon, while Loghain signaled for their party to leave.

"Eamon, might I have a word?"

He looked at her for a moment – judging her, no doubt, since he seemed so good at that – before motioning her forward while saying, "Teagan, Anora, why don't you go ahead and rest while you still can?"

Cersei watched, amused, as they followed his implied order without question. She saw Anora exit after her father before turning back to Eamon. She paused, unsure just how this conversation would go. He waited for her to speak, an unreadable expression on his face.

"Eamon... how is Alistair?"

He smiled, which she took as a good sign. "Alistair is embracing his new role with a determination I did not know he possessed. I have to admit, I was initially concerned about your decisions at the Landsmeet. However, I have come to realize this was the best outcome for Ferelden, and Alistair has as well."

She felt relief wash over her. She wasn't afraid of Eamon by any stretch of the imagination, but she knew he could prove a formidable enemy if he so chose – he had proven that with Loghain. She did not want him to use Alistair as a reason to move against her as well.

"I am glad you feel that way, your grace. It was never my intention to cause Alistair any pain..." she trailed off.

"I know, my lady. I believe he now realizes that as well. He's stopped sulking, at any rate. I am curious as to why you two simply did not wed, though. As daughter of a teyrn, you had just as much right as Anora—"

He stopped when she burst out laughing. "Oh, Eamon! We were undeniably close, but I look on him as a brother. In a very real sense, we have the same blood flowing through us."

He tilted his head, confused. "I don't understand." It was phrased as a statement, but she understood the question behind it.

"I'm sorry Eamon, but to enlighten you further I would have to betray Warden secrets."

He nodded in acceptance – she thought he would assume she meant they were 'blood brothers' – which they were, just not in the sense he would imagine.

"Is he... is he here?" She couldn't stop the wistful note from creeping into her voice.

He hesitated, but then nodded. "He is in my study. I believe you know where it is," he added wryly.

She flushed. Alistair must have told him how she had pilfered Alistair's mother's amulet from the study.

"Then with your leave, your grace?"

His face softened slightly. "Of course, my lady. I will see you at dawn."

* * *

Cersei knocked lightly on the study door. She had found Loghain first to let him know where she would be, just in case things went as... brilliantly as last time. As she heard Alistair say, "Come in," she could feel Loghain's presence entering the hall behind her. She turned to see him take up a watchful position near the stairs, and gave him a wink as she opened the door and entered.

Alistair was writing something, and looked up as she stopped just inside the door. He flushed, and said, "Oh." They looked at each other for endless moments, before he stood and spoke again.

"Come, have a seat."

She closed the door behind her. Well, _almost _closed it – she left it cracked slightly. She slowly sat in the proffered chair, and relaxed slightly as Alistair seated himself as well. She could practically _see_ the awkwardness dancing the Remigold in the air between them.

He seemed to search her face for another long moment, before a small grin suddenly lit his face. "So, Cersei. You look well."

The tension that had been gripping her spine suddenly snapped, and she slumped visibly, smiling. "As do you, Alistair. Being a king agrees with you."

His grin turned into his lop-sided smile, the one that said a joke was coming. "Yes, as king I have access to cheese at any moment of the day. And there are so many more varieties available than there were on the road!"

They laughed together at that, though perhaps a little too loudly.

She sobered suddenly, and impulsively leaned forward to touch his clasped hands.

"Alistair, I must apologize to you, I never meant—"

"No, Cersei. What I did was unforgivable; it is I who needs to apologize. And I do. I'm more sorry than you could imagine, for _everything._"

She tried again. "I pushed you too far..."

He sighed, and stood. She involuntarily started when he did, and it broke his heart a little. He began pacing, being careful to remain on his side of the desk.

"Cersei, you misunderstand me. I'm not simply apologizing for laying my hands on you. I thrust you into the leadership position before you even got the taste of darkspawn out of your throat. I left all decisions up to you, and rarely – if ever – offered my opinion until it was all said and done."

She smiled ruefully. _That_ was true enough.

He continued. "I followed you all over Ferelden, letting you shape the course of events; I trusted you with my life not just because we shared a bond, but because I always knew you would do whatever had to be done – no matter how ugly. And it was always for Ferelden." He paused, then said, "You should have been queen."

She shook her head. "I am no Rebel Queen. Yes, I understand politics, but I am serving my country better as a Warden. I can barely imagine myself as anything but a warrior now."

He nodded thoughtfully. His smile reappeared. "Yes, I did often find myself blinded by your glory on the battlefield. Although, you know, you really are more of a charming rogue than a warrior."

She rolled her eyes, but couldn't help smiling. She had missed this banter. Loghain _did_ crack the occasional joke, but she had a long way to go to really loosen him up.

"Look Cersei, my point is... I always trusted you to 'do it for Ferelden' when no one else would, then snapped at you when you did the same thing you always had in Denerim. And when I spoke to you after, and I lost myself..." He grimaced. He would carry the shame of that for the rest of his life.

She gave him an unreadable look. "You've really given this some thought, haven't you?"

"I've done nothing _but_ think of this. What kind of king would I be if I lashed out at everyone who didn't do exactly what I wanted, all the time? And how many difficult decisions will I make myself, as king, that won't be popular? I regret it terribly... but I feel as though I can be a better king because of it. Hurting the one person closest to me in all of Ferelden was unconscionable."

Cersei felt her eyes well with tears. "Alistair... We... I mean... I missed you." She covered her eyes.

He came around the table and pulled her into his arms. She stiffened momentarily, then allowed herself to return his embrace. After a moment, she felt as though eyes were on her and pulled away quickly, looking to the door. It was still closed – maybe her emotions were toying with her senses. She looked back at Alistair. He raised an eyebrow at her, questioning her sudden retreat. She simply shook her head and elegantly shrugged one shoulder before speaking again.

"I know our lives are now following different roads... but you will always be my brother, Alistair. No matter what. Please, promise me that won't change?"

He pulled her hand to his lips and brushed a quick kiss across it. "I promise, Cersei. And I promise to try to be the king you see in me."

She smiled, grateful that for a least this moment, she had her friend by her side.

* * *

When Cersei shut the door, Loghain moved from his spot near the staircase. He noticed she had left the door cracked, and he briefly peered through it. Cersei and Maric's bastard were sitting, not saying anything. The light gleamed off her blood-red hair; it was breathtaking. He stepped back, and let his mind begin to drift as he listened with half an ear. Almost immediately, though, he snapped back to reality when he heard laughter. He paid closer attention, even as he wondered whether he would make a career out of eavesdropping on these two.

He listened to Alistair speak, and was shocked. After all this time, was the boy finally becoming a man? Admittedly, Anora had told him as much when they spoke after his arrival. _"Father, I am... surprised by Alistair. He is much like Cailan, and yet... there is something hard in him. It is much like biting down on freshly made bread, only to discover a sliver of dragonbone between your teeth. I think he will do well."_

Alistair's voice had also lost the petulant tone Loghain had long associated with him. Perhaps Anora was training him in the ways of presenting himself as royalty; he wouldn't put it past her. If she believed he could do well, undoubtedly she would work to push him in that direction.

Now he noticed Alistair's voice had gotten quieter. He strained to hear clearly, and thought he heard something about 'the one person closest to me in all of Ferelden.' Unease settled into his gut. He didn't want to hear more, yet could not help listening closer. Cersei responded to what Alistair was saying with "I missed you." He felt his chest tighten, and a wave of... dare he say jealousy?

He turned and looked through the crack in time to see Alistair wrap his arms around Cersei. Loghain stiffened, before staggering back several steps from the door. How could he have ever thought... it was obvious to him what was going on with those two. He turned and fled, anger pulsing through his veins.

* * *

As Cersei stepped out of Eamon's office, her feelings of elation quickly slipped away. Loghain was not here waiting, as she had expected. She wasn't sure where he could have gone – maybe to discuss the coming battle with the arl?

She headed back to Eamon's main room. The arl himself was standing there, having a discussion with one of the dwarves from Orzammar – but there was no sign of Loghain. She decided to ask Eamon if he had seen her wayward Warden. She sidled up to the conversation and flashed a charming smile at the dwarf before speaking.

"Excuse me, your grace. Have you seen Loghain?"

"Indeed I have, lady. Have you met Faryn yet?" he asked, indicating the dwarf.

She inwardly rolled her eyes. Leave it to Eamon to play 'gracious host' when she was clearly on a mission. Turning to Faryn, she bowed and said, "Well met. How fare the dwarves? Ready for battle?"

Faryn snorted as he returned the bow. "Lady, you've spent time in Orzammar. You know we're always ready for battle."

She laughed, and said, "I should have known. We are honored to have you fighting at our side."

"The honor is mine, Warden. I saw you in the Proving ring. You bested our most capable warriors. I daresay you could bring down the Archdemon on your own."

Cersei blushed slightly, and lowered her eyes. "I had help then, as I do now. But I am glad you have such confidence in me – I will do my best to ensure it is not misplaced."

Eamon smiled warmly, glad that Cersei still remained humble. "My lady, I believe the teyrn went out to the courtyard. I must warn you though, he appeared quite agitated."

She furrowed her brow. Why would Loghain be agitated? Alistair had not hurt her; on the contrary, he had... oh. Anxiety and hope warred within her. Anxiety that Loghain may have seen Alistair hug her and gotten the wrong impression, and hope that maybe, just maybe, these... feelings she was having were reciprocated. She thought so, if she had guessed the source of his agitation right.

She thanked Eamon, and headed toward the entrance. Just as she was reaching the door, Leliana came through from the outside, startling her. Before she could say anything, or attempt to move past her without speaking, Leliana spoke.

"Cersei, whatever did you do to our pragmatic teyrn?" She had a mischievous smile on her face, which was somewhat at odds with the apparent concern in her question.

Cersei stared at her for a moment, wondering what she had been up to out in the courtyard – and apparently around Loghain. Damn Orlesians, always trying to take what belonged to Ferelden... Wait, where had _that_ come from, anyway?

She realized Leliana was still looking at her. "Leli, what are you talking about? Is there something wrong with Loghain?" Maybe the bard would know more about Loghain's agitation than Eamon had.

Leliana did in fact know more than Eamon – maybe not what had caused the agitation, but certainly how Loghain was reacting to it. She didn't want to spoil the surprise for her fair Warden, so she simply said, "He seemed quite upset."

Cersei's sense of anxiety increased. Loghain _had_ to have seen her and Alistair embrace. Maybe, if she talked to him now, she could clear the air. Hope swelled within her again, but she tried to squash it. No need to be _too_ optimistic. This was Loghain Mac Tir, after all.

She nodded her thanks to Leliana before rushing out the door. Leliana shook her head as she watched her go, before laughing and turning away.

Once outside, Cersei looked around. She noticed Loghain near the portcullis; curiously, he appeared to have removed his armored breastplate, leaving what looked like a linen shirt on. He was viciously attacking a straw dummy. As she moved closer to him, however, she saw that he was not wearing linen at all. Her steps faltered as she took in the sight of Loghain half-naked. His torso was pale, and the sweat running down his back made it shimmer in the sunlight. He was swinging his sword at the dummy, and with every movement she could see sinewy muscles ripple beneath the surface of his skin. She was absolutely transfixed by his appearance, and she knew she couldn't deny her attraction anymore. Bloody Maker, but she wanted to finish stripping him and throw him down...

Loghain spun in place to strengthen his next blow, but stopped short when he noticed Cersei watching him, with a strange look on her face. If he didn't know better, he would almost think it was... but no, not after what he witnessed with Alistair.

"Did you need something, Warden?" He couldn't help himself – he sneered at her as he said it.

A brief emotion – sadness? – flickered over her face before she schooled her features. He had to give her credit – apparently he was rubbing off on her. Hmm, that sounded rather pleasant, actually...

She opened her mouth as if to speak, then closed it again. She started walking toward him again, and was unable to stop herself from raking her eyes over his body. He noticed – and his anger started to melt away.

She stopped an arms length from him, and said, "Loghain, I … are you... oh, Maker." She stopped and bit her lip before closing her eyes and continuing. "Are you alright?"

When he didn't answer immediately, she opened her eyes. He was staring down at the sword in his hands – the sword _she_ had given him.

He was no longer as angry. In fact, based on the tension and heat radiating off her, he was beginning to think he had been somehow mistaken about Alistair. However, the question still had to be asked.

"Commander—Cersei... is your relationship with Alistair going to cause embarrassment for my daughter?"

She wondered briefly where a farmer's son learned to speak so regally. No doubt Maric demanded he learn some measure of decorum.

"Loghain. Look at me." He did so, albeit grudgingly.

She moved a step closer to him, and felt a surge of heat from standing in such close proximity to him. "Alistair is a brother to me, Loghain. No more. And he will _always_ be just that." She took a final step closer – almost close enough for their bodies to be touching. Slowly, she brought her hand up to his face. When she touched his cheek, she heard his sharp inhale.

She batted her eyelashes at him, and said, "You don't know how to read women very well, do you?" His heart leaped in his chest, and he reached up to grab her hand. He squeezed it, and she took that as a sign of encouragement. She began to lean up towards his lips, when—

The sound of the keep's door opening was painfully loud in the silence between them. Cersei and Loghain jumped away from each other, though her hand lingered in his and her eyes stayed fixed on him. A deep voice called out, "Hey Warden! That nug-humping Orlesian is looking for ya."

She sighed, and turned from Loghain, letting her fingers caress his as she dropped his hand. She headed toward the stairs. "Thank you, Oghren. Now why don't you go check out the supply of booze?"

"Heh heh. I like the way you think, Warden," he said, as he turned and walked back inside.

Cersei looked back at Loghain, who was gathering his armor from the ground. He was moving in a jerky manner, almost as if he was frustrated. And why not? She certainly was.

She called, "I'll meet you at Riordan's room." He nodded in response, though he did not turn around. Typical stoic Loghain. Her gaze lingered on his torso again, before he pulled his undershirt on. Maker...

She turned and entered the keep, and quickly headed toward her room, intent on a quick wash. When she got there, she saw that someone had thought ahead – a steaming tub of water was already waiting for her.

As she was locking the door behind her, she heard Leliana's lilting voice from her right. "So how is your Warden?"

Cersei jumped, with a "Maker's Ass!" escaping her lips. Turning, she gave Leliana an accusing glare and said, "That's the second time you've frightened me in the last half an hour. And why didn't you warn me Loghain was half-naked?"

Leliana chuckled. "Because, my dear, you would not have gone after him if I had. You can be so prudish here in Ferelden! But tell me, what happened?"

Cersei scowled. "Nothing."

Leli gave her a look as if to say 'yeah, right,' before saying, "Then why is your face so flushed?"

The Warden clapped her hands over her cheeks. They _did_ feel rather warm. Leliana laughed at her again – which, beautiful as her laugh was, served only to irritate Cersei further.

"Leli, I'm being serious! It wasn't that I didn't _want_ something to happen, it's just that our favorite bloody dwarf has the worst timing..."

Leliana's face lit up. "Oh, you must tell me everything!"

Cersei rolled her eyes. "It's not like there is a lot to tell. I went out to find him and... it was intoxicating. I've never felt a pull like that – I just wanted to touch him. So I did; I touched his face, he grabbed my hand, I started moving to kiss him, and then that damn dwarf ruined it!"

Leliana motioned her to the tub and said, "Get in, I'll wash your hair. Oghren did not ruin it forever; now we must make you beautiful so you can have your taciturn Warden before we leave for the final battle." She then helped Cersei remove her drakeskin armor and ushered her into the water.

Cersei leaned back, trying to relax as Leliana started washing her hair. She was extremely agitated now, but she knew her friend was right. She felt like tonight could very well be the night; she had just so badly wanted to feel his lips on hers!

Sensing Cersei's agitation, Leliana began singing as she worked the darkspawn blood out of the long red locks in her hands. Almost immediately, she felt the tension begin to dissipate. She suspected it would – ever since the first time she had sung it for the Warden, after encountering the werewolves in the Brecilian Forest, it had been her favorite.

Under Leliana's gentle ministrations, Cersei was quickly lulled into a light sleep. Images began to form in her mind. First, she was again dueling Loghain. However, this dream version progressed a bit differently than had actually occurred. One of the particularly tense moments of the fight had been the point where his sword was locked between her two blades, and their faces had been inches apart. In real life, she had winked at him, shortly before throwing him back. Now, she was seeing herself lean forward and kiss him almost violently. They dropped their blades and began to dance slowly.

She suddenly felt a tingle at the edge of her awareness – almost like darkspawn, or the gentle buzz she would sometimes feel from Alistair, except... this somehow made her think of Loghain. She jerked back to consciousness, and looked around rapidly.

Leliana was smiling at her. "You had quite the smile on that lovely face. I think perhaps you dreamed of your Warden, no?"

Cersei grinned, but held up her hand for silence. She reached out with her senses again... ah, there it was. It definitely felt like Loghain. And that was decidedly odd – she remembered the faint buzzing from Alistair, but it was inconsistent and never as pronounced as the tingle she was feeling now. She reached further and could sense Riordan as well – but again, not as strongly as Loghain. Now if only she knew what that meant... She noticed Leliana was giving her a strange look.

"Leli... I can _feel_ Loghain. Much more strongly than Riordan, in fact."

The beautiful Orlesian squealed. "Let's get you ready to see him, then! Oh, the things I can do to your hair..."

* * *

Loghain was waiting, somewhat impatiently, outside Riordan's room. Cersei seemed to be thrumming through his veins in a way not too dissimilar from the traces of darkspawn he was beginning to feel. He heard her footsteps and looked up, intending to ask her about it, but the words caught in his throat.

She looked radiantly beautiful. Somehow she had acquired a dark green dress. It was relatively plain, but it was rather low-cut and hugged her curves in a near-scandalous fashion. Her crimson hair was pulled back and separated into numerous twists, looking almost like small snakes. Silky, curly, sexy snakes. She approached him somewhat nervously, but with a small smirk.

"Do I have something on my face, Loghain?"

"...No. You just look so... stunning." He took her hand and lifted it to his lips, kissing the knuckles before turning it over and planting a kiss on her palm. She blushed. On seeing it, he felt a surge of lust – he loved making her blush, he decided. Just as quickly, he decided that he had lost his heart to her, had really _fallen_ in a way he had not since Rowan.

He reached up and tenderly brushed a lone tendril out of her eyes, and said, "Come, let us see just what this Orlesian has to say."

She preceded him into the room, and her elation disappeared as quickly as it had come. Riordan looked exceedingly grim. He motioned for Loghain to shut and lock the door.

"I have to ask," he began, "if either of you knows why it is that Wardens are needed to kill the Archdemon."

Loghain just watched him expectantly, but Cersei said, "I assume it has something to do with the taint."

"Right you are." Riordan sighed heavily. "I had suspected Duncan did not have time to tell you. If anyone other than a Warden strikes the killing blow, the Archdemon's soul will simply seek out the nearest darkspawn and be reborn. The taint in our blood ensures that the essence of the Archdemon will be drawn instead to us. The darkspawn are empty, soulless vessels, so become the Archdemon anew if they absorb this essence. Grey Wardens, on the other hand, _do_ have a soul. When the Warden absorbs the essence—"

"Their soul is destroyed, I take it?" Loghain cut in.

"Precisely so." He fell silent, allowing them a moment.

Cersei's face showed her horror. "So... this is why the Warden always dies? One of _us_... will die?"

Loghain spoke up. "I will take the blow."

She turned to him. "What? No! I can't let you die – this is my responsibility, and has been since Duncan died."

Riordan cut her off before she could say more. "Usually, the most senior Warden makes the decision. As the one who has been tainted the longest, I will attempt to make the kill. It will only fall to one of you if I fail."

Loghain watched Cersei out of the corner of his eye. She was pale, and was worrying her lower lip. He resolved to take the final blow if Riordan fell – no matter what Cersei wanted. She was still so young, and had so much left to experience. Perhaps Ferelden would even forgive him his crimes if he ended the Blight. His momentary happiness at realizing he cared deeply for this woman was replaced with sorrow at the knowledge that his death would surely hurt her – but he had suffered the loss of love before, and did not think he was strong enough to endure it again.

"I will take my leave of you now. Please, try to enjoy the time you have left here." With that, Riordan skirted around the two Ferelden Wardens and left the room.

Loghain turned to Cersei, but she was still staring at the spot where Riordan had been standing. Well, if she still wanted to see him after this, she knew where his room was. He left, casting one last glance at her still figure before walking swiftly away.

* * *

Cersei was lost in her thoughts, and barely registered when Loghain left the room – other than the buzzing in her veins receding somewhat. She knew Loghain would try to make the sacrifice, but she would not let him. Ever practical, she knew that Loghain would be much better equipped to lead and rebuild the Wardens in Ferelden when the Blight ended. Besides... hadn't she suffered enough loss? She still felt pangs of grief from the loss of her family and home, and they did not seem to have abated much in the long months since Howe's attack. She still felt perilously close to a breaking point at times, and suspected losing Loghain would prove the catalyst that destroyed her. Not even her temporary loss of Alistair had pushed her so far, but Loghain...

She found herself moving through a small door that she had discovered last time she was in Redcliffe; this door led to the battlements outside. She allowed her feet to carry her where they would, until finally she stopped and leaned against the stone ledge. She stared down, and realized she was looking at the courtyard where she had nearly kissed Loghain. Now, more than ever, she wanted him tonight...

She remained oblivious to her surroundings until she noticed it was dark, and becoming quite chilly. She headed back indoors, and meandered down the hall to her room. Her thoughts cleared when she stepped in and saw Morrigan standing in front of her fireplace.

"Morrigan? Is everything alright?"

Her back was to Cersei. "I know what it is that you must do." She turned, and began sauntering to Cersei. "I am here to tell you that it need not be so."

"Wait," interjected Cersei. "You mean you've known all this time and you never told me?"

"'Tis why I was sent. And if I had told you, would you have believed me? I think not. But I come to you with an offer, to save your life and prevent the necessity of a sacrifice."

Cersei frowned. "What kind of offer is this? Is it some kind of magic, presumably?"

"Yes. 'Tis old magic..." Morrigan's eyes became unfocused for a moment. Cersei wanted to ask if it was magic from Flemeth, but she already knew the answer. Where else would Morrigan have possibly been able to learn it?

Morrigan's eyes snapped to hers once again. "What I propose is this. Convince your fellow Warden to lay with me, tonight." At this, Cersei started violently, but Morrigan ignored her. "It is a ritual, performed in the dark of night. From this, a child will be conceived. When the Archdemon is slain, the taint in the newly conceived child shall draw its essence like a beacon. And _you_ will survive."

Cersei had many problems with this; so many, in fact, that she was unsure where to begin. Oh, wait, no she wasn't. Morrigan wanted to sleep with HER Warden?

"Why do you have to lay with my... fellow Warden?"

Morrigan rolled her eyes. "How else to you expect a child to be conceived?"

Cersei felt her face redden, but she pressed on. "I meant, why Loghain? Why not Riordan?"

"I need someone in whom the taint has only recently been introduced. Riordan has been a Warden for far too long," she answered smoothly.

That was just stupid. In fact, Cersei did not think she had ever heard anything so incredibly asinine, not even from Alistair, or a drunken Oghren. Clearly Morrigan just had her eye on Loghain... She interrupted her own train of thought, and asked, "Would the child be destroyed?"

The witch got a wistful look on her face. "No. It will receive the soul of an Old God... but will be so small in its newly formed state that it will absorb the essence without harm."

Cersei looked doubtful, and began, "Morrigan, I don't think—"

"Please. You cannot know what this means to me... And truly, you are a sister to me; I do not wish to see you fall." Morrigan's wistful look had been replaced with a sorrowful one.

Cersei did not trust this at all. She had already killed Flemeth, to prevent her possessing Morrigan's body. If she had managed to survive, she would no doubt find a way to possess this child with the soul of an Old God. But what about Loghain? What if he wanted to take a chance for his own survival? Against her better judgment, Cersei said, "Very well. I suppose I will go talk to Loghain." She headed out in search of him.

Morrigan heard the slight catch in her voice when the Warden said his name, and suspected she already knew what would happen next.

* * *

Loghain was in his room, still awake, wondering if he would see Cersei tonight after all. Just as he was finally deciding to go looking for her – just to see if she was okay, of course... oh, who was he kidding? He definitely desired her right now – he felt the mild sensations in his bloodstream become stronger, and realized she was probably heading his way. Or at least, he hoped so. Either that, or she was heading to the kitchen to attempt to curb her Grey Warden appetite.

His door had been ajar, but now it swung fully open and revealed Cersei. She was still in the green dress (and quite lovely) but she did _not_ look happy. He decided to act casual.

"I see you're still awake as well. I myself often have trouble sleeping before battle."

"Loghain, we need to talk."

Well. That was rather ominous sounding, and quite unexpected. He sighed – he really should have known this would happen, especially after they heard that one of them would very shortly be entering the Fade for good. Well, better she decided to not pursue a relationship _before_ they fell into bed together...

"What if I told you there was a way to avoid dying tomorrow?"

"I... what?" That was definitely _not_ what he was expecting to hear from her.

"There is a ritual, old magic... and it can supposedly prevent our deaths when the Archdemon is killed."

He narrowed his eyes. "Magic? Am I to assume, then, that this has something to do with the swamp witch hovering outside your room earlier?"

She would have laughed at that, if the situation wasn't so serious. "Yes. It actually... it involves you sleeping with Morrigan, as part of a ritual."

"What?! You want me to... how could you ask that of me? Haven't we already... come to some sort of understanding about you and I?"

Cersei felt fire spread through her body at that, but said, "Have we, though? All we did is come close to a kiss. I don't know how you feel about me at all! And I just... I don't want to watch you die, and I don't want you to have to watch me die, either!"

Loghain felt something break inside him as tears began to slip down Cersei's face. So she didn't realize yet how he felt? He crossed the room and grabbed her arms roughly, but not so rough as to hurt her. He held her gaze for several long seconds, before moving his hands to her face and pulling her lips to his own.

Cersei froze for a moment, shocked that the moment had come. She had been waiting for this, and now... she realized she was not kissing him back yet, and quickly rectified that mistake. Her hand reached up and grabbed the back of his neck; her other reached around to squeeze his rear. She felt him gasp when she did, and took the opportunity to slide her tongue into his mouth; it warred with his own just as furiously as they had fought their duel at the Landsmeet. She groaned as he bit her bottom lip, before grabbing her hair and pulling her head back. Slowly, he ran his lips down her exposed neck until he reached her collarbone, which he lightly bit and suckled on.

She wanted nothing more than to pull off their clothing and have her wicked way with him, and yet... thoughts pierced the haze of desire that was currently clouding her brain.

"Loghain... wait, I... ohhhh," she trailed off as he moved up and nipped her ear. She felt his lips curve into a smile against her skin, and started giggling.

"Loghain, I must insist you stop!"

He pulled back, and gave her a small smirk. "You don't want me to. Admit it."

She squeezed his ass again. "I never said I wanted to stop. I said I must insist on it. There is still the slight problem of Morrigan..."

Loghain scowled, even as his fingers found a nipple and tweaked it through the fabric. Dear Maker, no one had ever touched her like this... Suddenly she felt nervous – if they proceeded, would Loghain notice her complete lack of experience? He probably assumed Zevran had already bedded her – after all, half the people of Ferelden thought that already. She pulled away, feeling quite anxious.

He looked at her, wondering why she had had such a sudden mood shift. "Is everything alright, Cersei?"

She loved when he said her name. He had such a sexy voice. Again she fantasized about how it would sound in her ear, as he was thrusting into her with the passion she wanted to elicit from him...

"Oh, uh... y-yes, I'm okay. So are you going to sleep with Morrigan?"

He turned from her, thinking. If he slept with Morrigan, he could save Cersei's life... and possibly his own. They could have a life together – that is, if she still wanted to in the aftermath of battle. He was curious about one thing, though.

"Why do you not simply command me to do this? You are my superior officer, after all."

Cersei looked at him, dismayed that he would ask her such a thing. "Loghain, even if I did not have these feelings for you, I would never command you to do something like that. It is your choice."

He gazed at her brilliant green eyes, and saw her emotions roiling in their depths. He made up his mind.

"Well, then. Let us go see the witch before I change my mind."

She felt her stomach drop down around her ankles when he said that, but she wasn't sure why. Hadn't she wanted him to do this, so they could survive? Wasn't she beginning to think that they could have a future, if they simply made it through the Blight?

He started to move past her, but she stopped him by grabbing his arm. He looked down at her hand, before looking back up to catch her gaze. "Cersei, what...?"

She continued to stare at him, before whispering, "Don't."

He cocked his head at her, confused. "Don't? Don't what?"

Standing straighter, she said, "Don't do this. Please."

Loghain was even more confused. "I thought this was what you wanted. I am willing to do this for you... for us."

She shook her head. "What I want? No, Loghain. What I want... is you. I can't bear the thought of Morrigan having you..."

A heady sense of jubilation surged through him. Leaning toward her, he covered her mouth with his own again. She kissed him deeply, wanting him to feel the strength of her emotions through her kiss. After a lengthy kiss, he pulled back and looked into her eyes again.

"Maker, Cersei. I never thought I would feel this way again. But are you sure you don't want me to do this ritual? It could be our only chance to survive."

She glanced down, before answering, "Yes. I would never forgive myself if I let you spend this last night with Morrigan instead of me. Let's just... let's just hope that Riordan will not fail. I need you, Loghain."

He grabbed her hands and squeezed. "Then let us go inform the witch I will not be joining her tonight."


	5. Chapter 5

Morrigan watched as Cersei and Loghain walked into the room. Even in the near-darkness of the room, she could see Loghain's hand at the small of Cersei's back. She sighed inwardly, knowing what that meant. She had seen it coming, of course – she was no fool, after all – but she had still hoped…

"Well? What is your decision, Warden?"

Cersei and Loghain looked at each other for a long moment before Loghain responded, still staring into Cersei's eyes.

"I will… not be joining you in your bed tonight. Somehow, I doubt you will be heartbroken by that."

Morrigan's face twisted in on itself for the briefest of moments, before she regained control of herself. What gave this arrogant fool cause to think he knew her? She had been counting on this ritual, long before she had even grown to hold such regard for Cersei. She did not wish for Cersei to sacrifice herself, but now this buffoon had come along and thrown her plans into chaos. She could not keep a trace of sorrow from reaching her eyes as she thought of Cersei – so naïve, yet so… pure. Her life, with all its potential and promise, would be snuffed out so the imbeciles of Ferelden would be safe.

Cersei spoke up. "Morrigan… it's not that I don't appreciate your offer, but—"

The witch cut her off. "Do you think this offer was made just for you, Warden? Then you are a bigger fool than I thought."

Cersei took a step back, visibly stung by the words coming from a woman she cared so much about. Loghain's hand slid up her back to her shoulder, which he squeezed gently in reassurance.

"Morrigan…" she tried again.

"No, Cersei. I gave you a choice, and you've made it. I… I cannot stay with you any longer."

Even Loghain started at that. Cersei made to move toward Morrigan, but the witch turned away sharply, saying, "I'm sorry." There was a sudden shimmer in the air around Morrigan as she took her wolf form. Before Cersei could cry out, the witch ran from the room, leaving the two Wardens to wonder what exactly had just happened.

After a moment, Loghain's eyes narrowed – he was rather angry with Morrigan. What was the blasted apostate thinking, to desert Cersei on the eve of battle? Though he could not fathom the reason why, he knew his fellow Warden was inordinately fond of the antisocial mage; suppose her loss caused Cersei to become fatally distracted on the battlefield?

He felt her fingers creep up to his hand, which was still on her shoulder. Glancing at her, he saw a strange look on her face as she watched him. Pulling his hand to her mouth, she gently kissed his knuckles before dropping it and walking towards her fireplace. He trailed after her, but stopped a few feet away, suddenly unsure of himself. Was this a wise move, this sharing of affections? Furthermore, did she even feel legitimate affection for him? Perhaps she was just afraid of death, and of missing all the things the world still had to offer her.

She was giving him that strange look again, this time as she beckoned him closer. Before he could go to her, however, he had to know…

"Why do you want this? I'm an old man—"

"No, Loghain, you are not. Isn't it obvious by now why I want this? You're more than just my hero… I respect you greatly – I sometimes think Andraste herself was not as brilliant as you. You understand me, and I you. And I think… I think that's why you're the one."

Loghain arched his eyebrow quizzically. "One?"

Cersei was suddenly staring at the floor instead of him, seemingly embarrassed.

"The one I've been… _waiting_ for." She looked up at him again. "Loghain, in three days' time I may be dead. I… Maker, this sounds so _stupid_…" She covered her eyes with one hand.

Loghain felt a thrill rush through him at her words, but kept his eyebrow raised. This nervous, tongue-tied girl in front of him was far different from the charismatic, formidable woman he was used to seeing.

She held her breath for a moment, then blurted out, "I don't want to go to my grave having never felt a man's touch! Can I die of embarrassment now, Loghain?" Her hand dropped from her eyes as a delicate shade of red suffused her cheeks.

He was completely taken aback. No, there couldn't possibly be truth to that. Surely that bloody stupid assassin who he had paid to apparently try to seduce – as opposed to kill – the Warden… "Surely the assassin—" His words mirrored his thoughts.

"Stop right there!" she said, as she laughed. "I have _never_… well, it wasn't for lack of trying… on his part!" she added, seeing the look of horror on Loghain's face. She stepped forward and reached for his hands. The look of horror was draining away, being replaced by one of wonder.

"Loghain. Please."

She had not even said 'please' when she had implored him to step down at the Landsmeet. He pulled her flush against himself, and the rest of his lingering doubts were obliterated at the feel of her lips on his own. A soft, chaste kiss quickly evolved to a more passionate one as Cersei overcame her initial hesitancy about opening her mouth. As their tongues came into contact and began to dance, she couldn't stop herself from moaning into his mouth.

He started to pull away, and she reached her hand up to grab his neck and pull his mouth back to hers. Their tongues tangled again momentarily before he turned his head to the side and whispered her name, growing still against her. Puzzled, she opened her eyes again.

Before she could ask him what was wrong, she noticed a flicker of movement over his shoulder, near her still-open door. She narrowed her eyes, knowing exactly who it was. She extricated herself quickly from Loghain's arms, shooting him an apologetic glance. Then she stepped around him.

"Zevran."

She smiled as a low chuckle reached her ears; Loghain rolled his eyes and walked towards the fire. Resting his arm on the mantle, he gazed into the flames and listened to the conversation.

"Ah, mia bella. How did you know it was me?" Zevran emerged from the shadows just inside her door. A lecherous grin was, as always, firmly in place. Cersei planted her hands on her hips and started tapping one foot, feigning irritation. She knew he wasn't fooled, however.

"Well, Zev, you are the only person brazen enough to attempt this… unauthorized entry into my room, and the only person stealthy enough to ALMOST get away with it."

Zevran tossed his head back and let out a hearty laugh. "You know me so well, my dear Warden! Alas, I was hoping that this time, perhaps, I could convince you to get to know me on a more intimate level… " He saw Loghain's eyes narrow – clearly the older man was listening in – and he continued, "But I see you are already busy with your fellow Warden. If, however, you change your mind…"

Cersei laughed and playfully shoved him. "Oh Zev, you know my inexperience would leave you seriously disappointed. How could you continue to worship me after something like that?"

Zevran's face suddenly turned serious, and the twinkle disappeared from his eye. "Mia bella... you could _never_ disappoint me. There is no one alive I respect more than you." With that, he stepped forward and took her hands, giving them a brief squeeze before he leaned in and quickly kissed her cheek. Then he gave her a quick wink before turning to leave the room.

Cersei stared for a moment, wondering what the hell had just happened. She looked back at Loghain and saw him staring thoughtfully at the door; thinking it meant he was getting impatient, she hurried to close and latch the door. Then she turned to Loghain and hesitated briefly; he still looked lost in thought. After a moment's silence, however, he noticed her watching him. He beckoned her forward, and she closed the distance all too willingly.

Cersei felt a bit like a fool as she stepped into his arms again – she knew almost nothing about intimacy, and Loghain already had a grown daughter... Speaking of which, was he too old? No—no, he wasn't, and she needed to focus more on the feel of the man in front of her and less on nonsensical questions.

She closed her eyes and leaned closer, trying to subtly inhale his scent. Judging by his stifled chuckle, he heard her. She blushed, but tilted her face up towards his. "Loghain..." She trailed off, unsure of what she wanted to say.

Loghain waited for her to speak, but quickly realized she had nothing to say, was in fact too nervous for words. A small smile touched his lips before he spoke. "Cersei... you have nothing to worry about. You mean a great deal to me, and... if you are unsure... I will simply walk out of your room now. I would never—"

"No, Loghain," she cut him off. "I don't want you to go. I promise you, I am ready for this. It's... well, funny really. I can charge into battle with no fear, no trepidation at what is to come, but right now I am scared. Not because you might hurt me," she said, as he opened his mouth to speak, "but because the depth of my feelings for you are rather frightening. Now... please Loghain, make love to me."

As Loghain reached for Cersei, to pull her close again, he thought momentarily about her uncanny ability to always say exactly the right thing. As their kisses deepened, as his hands reached up to slowly slide her dress from her body, neither saw the shadowy form outside the window. Morrigan sat, perched on the stone ledge outside the glass. She was still angry for the chance that Cersei had denied her; however, she could not deny the bond of sisterhood that she felt with the Warden. She had therefore decided to attempt a... reworking of the ritual she had intended for herself. She was unsure if it would work – certainly it would not work as originally intended – but it would, hopefully, prevent the death of her friend, or the man she knew Cersei had fallen for. As Loghain and Cersei moved to the bed, she tactfully shifted her eyes away, and began her incantations.

An hour passed, and then two, as Cersei felt both pain and pleasure. Her body reacted to Loghain's ministrations in ways she had never anticipated, and at one point her emotions swept through her so painfully that she wept. This was no inexperienced fumbling, followed by a few sweaty, awkward thrusts as she always imagined sex to be. No, this was bliss. As their lovemaking ended, she even saw stars – and even a shimmering glow from outside the window. Though she did not know it, this was of course Morrigan shapeshifting to the form of a raven to take her leave – her mission was complete, for better or worse.

Afterwards, Cersei and her lover – and how exciting that was, that she was sweaty and nude with her first lover! – lay naked together in the predawn hours, holding each other as tightly as was possible without causing discomfort. Cersei lay languidly draped over his moist body for some time before finally speaking.

"So... what does this mean for us?"

Loghain sighed, almost inaudibly, before answering. "It means we rise from our bed in mere hours, and we march to war."

He glanced down at her beautiful face, and saw her joy wilt visibly.

"...Oh..." She started to pull away, but he quickly pulled her flush against him again.

"Cersei, don't. You misunderstand me. What I mean is... we march to war first. This is hardly the time to be planning a future, as you very well know. There is a very high probability that neither of us will survive this battle..."

He glanced down and trailed off as he saw tears form in her emerald eyes. He did not want her to cry; no, he wanted any remaining time they had to be happy. He started speaking again. "However, I will say that if we do, in fact, manage to survive... If Riordan manages to slay the Archdemon, sparing our lives... Well, I daresay I may be somewhat disinclined to leave your side. Ever."

Cersei slowly lifted her eyes to meet his gaze. She blinked slowly as a smile spread across her face. "Loghain, I believe nothing would make me happier. I think you've just given me the best possible reason to make it through this battle." With that, she reached for his hair to gently pull his face down to her own. Just before their lips met, she paused for the briefest of moments and whispered, "I love you."

His heart swelled painfully at that, and his emotions overwhelmed him as he rolled her over and took her again for what he felt may be the last time. In mere hours, they would march to war and face death yet again.

* * *

As the first traces of pink began to light the morning sky, Cersei roused from her slumber. She had dozed off after the last round of lovemaking, physically and emotionally satisfied enough to find rest before their forced march began. She smiled as she felt Loghain's arm curled possessively around her waist. She lightly ground her rear against the hardness she felt pressed against her, and lamented the fact that there was no longer time to take advantage of the situation. Loghain stirred behind her, undoubtedly due to the feeling of the woman rubbing against him. He momentarily held her tighter to his body and lightly bit her shoulder, before awakening more fully and pulling slightly away. She turned towards him and pouted, feeling bereft of the feel of his body against her own. Why, oh why, had she not been sleeping with him for the last few weeks? She couldn't believe she had ever slept without him by her side.

Loghain chuckled, and leaned in to kiss her pout away. "Good morning, Commander. I trust you are ready to spring in to action already?"

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Dear Maker Loghain, don't refer to me as Commander in bed. Well, unless... no, never mind," she said, as a blush rose on her cheeks. "Just don't do it. Yet. Uh, I mean, how are you feeling? I suppose we should rise and dress..." Her voice trailed off as she noticed her bedroom door was slightly ajar. _Oh, that perverted little elf..._

She internally rolled her eyes before kissing Loghain again. She curled her fingers into his silky black hair, and made a contented sound in her throat before pulling away again. Then she rose and began searching for her armor.

Loghain lay there for a moment, smiling slightly at her obvious comfort around him. She was so beautiful – especially when she turned toward him to motion him out of bed, and he noticed the love bite just below her collar bone... and the other one just to the left of her nipple...

She saw him staring at her body and glanced down, narrowing her eyes when she saw the marks on her body. "Are those... bloody hell Loghain, this one by my collarbone is going to be visible to everyone!"

He smirked as he rose from the bed. "Did you or did you not imply just hours ago that you desire to be my woman? Surely you know I have to stake my claim, to keep the elf away if nothing else."

She glared at him. After a moment, she rolled her eyes and began dressing. He did, however, see her smile as she turned away, saying, "I think you should probably dress as well, and quickly. The elf has already been in our room, and there's no telling if or when he may return hoping to catch us _in flagrante_ again." She heard him mutter "Bloody elf" under his breath as he began dressing himself. Within minutes, they were both fully armed and ready to depart; Loghain graciously held the door open for Cersei... and allowed himself a moment to enjoy the sway of her hips as she passed.

When they entered the main hall, the rest of their party was waiting for them already. Several sets of eyes seemed to stop and linger on the mark so plainly visible on Cersei's skin. In fact, if she was not mistaken, she noticed gold switch hands from Oghren to Zevran. The elf then winked at her, before speaking to Loghain. "I see your friendship with the Grey Warden is going very well."

Loghain sighed heavily – he already knew the assassin had seen them mid-coitus, and furthermore he _knew_ that Zevran was aware that his spying was known. "Is there a reason you say that with a smirk, elf?"

Zevran did not answer, instead choosing to gently squeeze Cersei's shoulder as he walked past her to the door. Loghain watched as the elf left, however, and so did not miss the brief look of melancholy he sent Cersei's way before he went outside. The former general turned back to the crowd as he heard Oghren's deep chuckle.

"So. With the boss, aye?" Another chuckle.

_Dear Maker, why does the woman insist on keeping some of these people around? _"Pardon?"

"You and the boss. Rolling your oats."

"Dwarf, if you don't—"

"Polishing the footstones."

"—cease your infernal prattling—"

"Tapping the midnight still, if you will."

"Dear Maker, enough already!" Loghain was quite fearsome when he was angry, but Oghren very rarely cared for the emotions of others.

"Forging the moaning statue. Bucking the forbidden horse. Donning the velvet hat."

Closing his eyes in exasperation, Loghain gave up. "Are you just making these up right now?"

"Nope. Been saving 'em," followed by more laughter. _Does the dwarf never cease to amuse himself?_

As annoying as Loghain found the red haired berserker to be, he was somewhat amused – and Cersei was outright laughing, as well. After a moment, she waved her hands at everyone and spoke. "Alright everyone, as you know it is time for our march to Denerim. This will be a great battle – possibly greater than that of the River Dane. However, I believe we can save Denerim. We _must_ save Denerim. We have come so far already, and though we have lost people we love along the way—" she glanced briefly around, still expecting to see Morrigan's face staring back at her, "—we are stronger for it. We will prevail against the 'fulcrum of true evil'," and here she actually giggled, remembering how pompous Bhelen had sounded when he used those same words. She quickly sobered, though, and looked around the room, meeting every set of eyes in turn.

"Now let us depart. The battle for Denerim awaits." She turned to Loghain, and he nodded approvingly. She reached for his hand, and walked out the door with her fellow Grey Warden at her side. She felt invincible.


	6. Chapter 6

This is my shortest chapter ever, but it says what needs to be said and ends exactly where it needs to end. Once again, I don't own any of the associated material here, and if you spot any errors please let me know.

* * *

Cersei was exhausted to the point of tears as she entered Fort Drakon. Though her party – herself, Loghain, Zevran and Wynne – was relatively unscathed so far, she knew the worst was still to come. She was torn between relief and sorrow – relief that the battle was drawing to a close, and sorrow at how it was going to end. She and Loghain had seen Riordan fall to his death; they knew now that these were their final moments together, that one of them was about to lose their life. She knew, also, that Loghain would try to sacrifice himself, but she had a way around that. She beckoned Wynne to her side.

"What is it, child?"

Cersei hesitated and looked around to ensure Loghain and Zevran were not listening – luckily, they had moved slightly ahead – before answering, "I need you to do something for me."

Sorrow entered Wynne's eyes; Cersei had told her on the march to Denerim that a sacrifice was necessary to slay the Archdemon. Her mouth trembled slightly before she replied, "Of course dear, what is it?"

"I need you to... well, paralyze Loghain. Just for a few moments. At the end of all things."

The mage looked skeptical. "You mean to sacrifice yourself, don't you? Cersei, it would be a waste to allow you to do this—"

Cersei cut her off. "Look at it this way. If Loghain sacrifices himself, all of Ferelden – and possibly Thedas – will see him as a martyr, as a hero. As THE hero. I know you don't want that..."

Wynne narrowed her eyes. It was true enough, but still a rather unkind thing to say... the almost childish manipulation was, however, enough to ensure that she would do as Cersei asked.

"Alright. If I am able, I will render him immobile. It will be very brief, however, so make it count."

At that moment, Loghain reappeared in their field of vision. "Ladies, we must press onward. Be on your guard; I sense darkspawn ahead."

Cersei looked to Loghain, and allowed herself a moment to enjoy the feel of him buzzing through her veins. Then she moved forward, to take the lead again. Cautiously, she moved into the main hall of Fort Drakon. The room seemed empty, and she could sense no darkspawn. However, just as they approached the center of the hall...

"Shades!" shouted Cersei. Luckily, shades did not have the same effect on her as visions of dead people. Spells flew through the air, blades tore through flesh, and ashes fell to the ground. And Maker, were those ashes smelly. Cersei looked down at her boot and had a momentary panic attack – there were ashy remains on her foot. She started jumping around on one foot, wildly batting at the offending boot in an attempt to clear it off. She stilled suddenly, as she realized her friends were staring.

"What? For some reason, the remains of these shades are worse than darkspawn spume..."

They continued to stare, so she trailed off.

"Never mind. Let's just move on."

From there, however, it only got worse. Wave after wave of reanimated corpses... shudders kept involuntarily twisting her spine. The corpses were in no way a real threat, but they were undeniably creepy. At one point, she caught Zevran smirking at her obvious disgust... and so she scooped up some corpse gall with the tip of Starfang and threw it toward his pretty face. He managed to duck, of course, but instead of getting angry he just laughed.

Shaking her head, Cersei shouldered her way into the room at the end of the hall, expecting more... Well, she wasn't even sure what to expect, she only knew it would be something trying to kill her. Strangely though, nothing rushed at her in yet another vain attempt to kill her. Instead, she saw Sandal, surrounded by a pile of dead darkspawn.

"Sandal? What happened here?"

As she probably should have expected, Sandal simply looked at her with his sweet smile and said, "Enchantment?" She couldn't help but smile in return.

She reached out and lightly ruffled his hair, before saying, "I think perhaps it's time for you to go back to Bodahn." Her smile faltered as she remembered this was the last time she would be seeing the boy. "Stay safe, Sandal." She watched as he began to pick his way through the darkspawn corpses, then instinctively sought out Loghain with her eyes. As he met her gaze, she couldn't help but wonder what it would have been like to have a life with him. Sighing nearly imperceptibly, she turned away and led the group forward.

There were very few darkspawn left in their path to the roof – well, except for the darkspawn assassins that materialized out of nowhere. Much like the thousands of darkspawn she had already slaughtered, Cersei tore through them like paper. After they lay in pieces on the ground, Loghain remarked, "There is only one room left between us and the roof. If there are any darkspawn left in place to resist us, they will be there."

Cersei nodded her head in agreement. Her darkspawn sense was going crazy right now, but she wasn't certain what was causing it – darkspawn in the next room, or the Archdemon which lay beyond two doors? She crept towards the door, and inched it open slowly. Seeing nothing, she opened it wider before she beckoned the others forward. Before they had gone more than five steps, however, she noticed the hurlock emissary. And the ogre. Wait, make that ogres, plural.

"Why, oh why, is it always OGRES?" Cersei screamed as she ran toward the nearest one. She brought down the ogre in epic fashion, leaping up and knocking it to the ground before stabbing it in the face. She hopped off in time to see Zevran and Wynne bring down the other ogre, and Loghain lopping the head off the emissary. She smiled grimly, satisfied. Then she said, "Alright, gather round, everyone."

Her comrades moved to stand near her. She looked from face to face, meeting their eyes and trying to convey her emotions without words. Loghain nodded at her, then turned to walk toward the door. Wynne also moved to walk to the door, but first she said, "Andraste be with us all. Especially you, child." Instead of moving away, Zevran stepped closer with an unusually somber look upon his face. "Mia bella..."

"Zev... I know how you feel. And if it wasn't Loghain, it would have been you." She chuckled. "You would have worn me down, eventually."

"Ah, my dear Warden... this had better not be our final battle. Now, let us show this Archdemon just how deadly and beautiful you really are."

* * *

Men, dwarves, and elves fought desperately against countless darkspawn. Screams echoed, smoke billowed, and the smell of blood was thick in the air. In the midst of this carnage, Cersei knelt behind a low wall as she used a rather potent health poultice. She knew significant damage had been inflicted upon the Archdemon, particularly from the ballistae she had ordered Zevran to man. The flying behemoth had finally landed in the centermost part of the roof, and was starting to move rather sluggishly. Her longbow, creepily named the Sorrows of Arlathan, lay forgotten beside her. After all, what good was a bow when you were out of arrows?

She didn't want to admit it, but she was scared. She wasn't ready to charge at the Archdemon, she wasn't ready to stand next to its massive form and attempt to sink metal into its flesh, and she certainly wasn't ready to die. Furthermore, she knew she would _never_ be ready for this, especially if she continued to sit here wallowing in her own fears. She looked up as a rush of cool hit her body; glancing at Wynne, she realized the senior mage had just cast her heroic offense spell on their group. Feeling suddenly emboldened, Cersei stood and rushed toward the Archdemon, blades in hand.

_This is... this is surprisingly similar to fighting that high dragon, _she thought as Starfang sank deep into one of the front legs. The Archdemon roared in pain; at this close distance, it was deafening. Cersei was undeterred, however, and continued dancing around the great beast, taking swipes and hammering blows whenever and wherever she could. She vaguely realized Loghain was taking a similar approach, and even Zevran was flitting around the hind legs, stabbing repeatedly with two longswords of his own. _I taught him to do that..._

The three of them were suddenly sent flying backwards as the Archdemon made one final attempt to launch itself into the air. Almost immediately, it dropped back down; the fight was clearly nearing its end. Cersei pulled herself to her knees, then crawled over to where Zevran was struggling to right himself. She planted a quick kiss on his forehead, and said, "Live well, my friend. Live gloriously."

She then pulled herself into a shambling kind of walk, and hurried to Loghain. He was sitting semi-upright against a large chunk of stone, wincing in pain as he worked to stay upright. Cersei pulled his face to hers, and whispered, "I love you, Loghain Mac Tir. Always." His eyes widened as he realized what she was about to do, but Cersei leaned back and screamed, "Now, Wynne! NOW!" He then felt his body freeze before he could move to stop Cersei, and she roughly pulled his mouth to her own in a hard, rough kiss. She pulled away almost as quickly as she started, and said, "I'm sorry. But I have to do this."

She turned to face the Archdemon, which was flailing and making the draconic equivalent of whimpers. Sneering, she sprinted toward the beast, snatching a greatsword on the way. The Archdemon made an attempt to bring its face toward her, but she slid under it and stuck the great blade up, slicing along the length of the neck as she went. A great bellow sounded above her, and she rolled to the side as the head dropped heavily to the ground. She staggered to her feet for the final time, and took a moment to suck in a breath. Then she raised the sword high above her head, and brought the tip down into the huge skull. As she began twisting the blade, a bright light burst forth from the hole, blinding her – but she refused to let go.

Loghain and Zevran stared at her, glanced at each other with agony clearly written on their faces, then turned to watch in horror as the world shattered around them.

As the brilliant white light engulfed Cersei and exploded past her in a giant wave, she felt a curious burning warmth in her lower abdomen. _I must have been wounded in these last moments... _As she was flung backwards, she hoped Loghain and Zevran were not being hurt. She felt herself slipping into oblivion, and was thankful that it was not painful. Instead, she felt at peace as she drifted away.


	7. Chapter 7

I've been going back through this story and fixing small errors that I've found, and I'm always shocked at my own style of writing. I forget how distinctive my tone is, and I make myself laugh a lot. I hope you, dear readers, laugh as well.

* * *

Cersei felt warmth. She could see nothing, hear nothing, and felt as though she was floating through a void... but it was warm. She became aware of herself, slowly, though she did not fully awaken. Why could she see nothing but darkness? And why... why was it so hard to think? She tried frantically to pierce the looming haze covering her thoughts, but only whispers came through, from far off - voices she could no longer put names to.

_ I'll kill every bastard that comes through that door to buy them time, but I won't abandon you..._

_ We are Couslands and we do what must be done._

_ No more must you grieve, my girl. Take the pain and the guilt, acknowledge it, and let go. It is time._

They were illogical thoughts, zipping through her awakening mind like falling stars. Did she say these things? No... no. It was... her mother. And father. Right before her family was destroyed.

Smells suddenly began to manifest, and she caught the sudden aroma of... was that Antivan leather? She struggled to open her eyes, to awaken more fully, and managed to force her eyes open a crack as a slight groan escaped her lips. A shadowy form began moving at the edge of her vision, and the smell of leather intensified. Just as quickly, her eyes fell shut as she slipped down into the ether again. Zevran softly called her name, but Cersei's moment of silent lucidity was over.

* * *

Cersei drifted through a swirl of colors and voices. The image suddenly solidified, and she found herself at the Landsmeet, facing Loghain as the surrounding nobles shouted at them.

_...did I not already face Loghain?_she thought, confused.

"Traitors! Which of you fought the Orlesian Emperor when his troops flattened your fields and raped your wives!?"

She remembered now. Oh Maker, how that man was stubborn. But, while he was certainly fervent in his desire to beat her at any cost, he was still... well, she found him almost charming when he said, "'A man is made by the quality of his enemies.' Maric told me that once. I wonder if it's more a compliment to you or me."

Loghain. She missed him. She watched herself duel him again, and couldn't help but marvel at the sight of him in battle. She had not been paying such attention to his body when they initially dueled. Not that they were actually dueling now... or were they? Was she simply drifting after death, doomed to relive her memories in the Fade? Would she not move on to the afterlife?

At this point, Cersei saw her image of the world begin to blur around the edges again. She vaguely heard one final statement as conscious thought began to break through her vision: "I accept your surrender, Loghain Mac Tir."

* * *

Blurred colors slowly coalesced to form the image of an elf sitting beside her. He noticed her open eyes, and leaned forward to grasp her hand. "Do you know me, my dear Warden?"

Cersei answered, "My favorite Crow..." in the breathless whisper of a very weak woman.

Zevran managed a sad smile. She tried to squeeze his hand in reassurance, but could manage only to produce the faintest pressure against his palm. Then her eyes began to lose focus on him as she heard a voice begin speaking in her right ear.

_What is this?_

_ I want you to have it. I can think of no other man worthy of it._

Ah, yes, that was the day she knew she was going to fall in love with Loghain. The look on his face when he realized she was giving him Maric's blade...

_You think me worthy of this blade?_

_ No other man has given more for this country. Not even Maric._

Her heart had broken a bit, when she realized just how lost Loghain really was after Ostagar. She wanted to save him, and she couldn't help but admire how beautiful he looked, how strong he was, how peaceful he looked without his armor on. Where was Loghain, anyway? Surely he survived the battle at Fort Drakon...? Zevran was beginning to speak to her again when her vision of the world shattered like glass and flew into her eyes, blinding her.

* * *

A faint buzzing in her ears fragmented into individual sounds - vague noises, disjointed and seemingly random, gradually cemented into words, into sentences. Sight seeped back to her, and she found herself gazing at the Archdemon, in its final moments. She once again crawled over to Zevran, bidding him farewell. As she stumbled over to Loghain, she felt her heart clench. She did not want to say good bye to him again... it had been hard enough the first time.

"I love you, Loghain Mac Tir. Always." As she pulled his face to her own, she swore she could feel his lips beneath her own. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this."

This time, she clearly saw the anguish on his face as he realized he could not stop her from sacrificing herself. And once again, she destroyed the Archdemon, and she felt again the powerful eruption of light that had occurred at the moment of its death. She also felt that strange burning in her lower abdomen, shortly before her vision began to fade. _What in the world...?_

She found herself drifting again. She saw nothing; she heard nothing. Everywhere was darkness, weighing down on her. Shadows beat against her brain. Finally, the grip of the gloom lifted – and this time, she felt sure it would not come back.

She slowly opened her eyes. Everything was blurry for a moment, before her eyes remembered how to focus again. She heard a sharp intake of breath to her left, followed by the sound of movement. A moment later, curtains were drawn open, and she saw that it was Zevran that she had heard.

"Zev? Wh... where am I? Is this the Fade still? It is, isn't it?" She croaked out, sounding slightly panicked.

"Hush, my beautiful Warden. You are still very much alive, though you had us quite worried for... some time."

"Some time?How long have I been... And how am I still—" she coughed abruptly; her voice felt rusty, she assumed from extended disuse.

Zevran handed her some water. "Drink, mi amor. I will explain everything in a moment. But first, come here," he said, as he suddenly swept her into a bone-crushing hug. Just as suddenly, though, he pulled back, casting a... was that an apologetic look?... at her abdomen.

She arched her eyebrow as she took a drink. She held the water in her mouth for a moment, before swallowing. It felt marvelous. Then she spoke.

"Okay Zev, what was with the strange look? Where is everyone? I'm glad you were here when I woke, but where is—"

Zevran laughed. "Oh, sweet Warden, how wonderful it is to hear your voice again! And as inquisitive as always, I see. Ah, mia bella. Are you asking your little assassin for more stories?" He smirked at her; she blushed, remembering how frequently she harassed him to tell her tales of his 'glorious adventures.'

She gave him her best impression of her mabari hound – where was Dog, anyway? – with adorable eyes and a pleading whine. Zev was a sucker for wide eyes and whimpering.

He sighed. "All right, my dear. Where should I begin?"

That was actually a good question. There were so many things she needed to know.

"Okay.. I guess the logical starting point is ascertaining just how long I have been unconscious."

Zevran smirked before answering. Sometimes she almost overwhelmed him with the nobility speak. And she was not going to be particularly happy with his answer.

"Seven weeks."

"WHAT?! Andraste's flaming bloody knickers, what happened to me? No, wait, why am I even alive? Oh Maker... Loghain! Did he die in my place? Zevran—" She cut herself off as tears burst almost violently from her.

He reached out and pulled her to his chest, before beginning to run his hand over her admittedly messy hair. "My dear Warden, calm yourself. Shh. Everything is okay. The only thing that has been wrong, the only thing keeping this nation from celebrating, has been your prolonged illness. Loghain is alive. The Archdemon is dead. All our companions are unscathed. And now," he pulled back, and began wiping the tears from her face, "now everything is right in the world. You are awake. The Hero of Ferelden is with us once again."

Cersei snorted, even as she began to stop crying. "The Hero of Ferelden, you say? Who came up with _that _title?"

Zevran laughed. "You know how much you Fereldans love your heroes. Wasn't your taciturn lover the Hero of River Dane?"

Cersei inhaled sharply. _Her lover..._

"Zev. Where is Loghain? Has he... has he been waiting, as well?"

"He has. As much as he can, anyway. Anora and Alistair have him working to recruit new Wardens. However, he is always sure to check on you when he returns to the palace every evening."

Her nose crinkled. She wanted Loghain, and she wanted him NOW. Judging by the light, it was still early afternoon; it would be hours before he was back. "Okay Zev. If he is on active duty I will assume he was not injured. But... will you tell me everything? Please?"

"Of course. However, I must fetch Wynne. Hold on for one moment, mia bella."

The lithe assassin walked quickly to the door, where she heard him tell someone to fetch the healer. He returned to her side just as rapidly, and took her hand. "Alright mi amour." He paused, unsure where to begin. "What is the last thing you remember?"

Her brow furrowed. "There was a great explosion of white light. I felt myself fly. I was... worried about you, and Loghain. And there was a burning..." She suddenly raised the sheet, finally remembering that she had been injured and wanting to see the wound.

There was nothing there. Her abdomen was unblemished.

She looked up at Zevran, confused. "What happened to me? Why... I thought I was hurt, why did I feel it burning?"

At that moment, the door opened and Wynne entered. The mage's face lit up when she saw that Cersei was awake.

"Oh child, we've been so worried! How are you f..." She saw the confused look on Cersei's face, and the still half-raised sheet. "Ah. Zevran, perhaps you would give us a moment?"

"No! I need him, he stays," Cersei said as she latched on to Zevran's hand again. She had no idea what was going on, but the elf was the only one who she felt could comfort her with Loghain not around.

Wynne nodded in acceptance before shutting the door behind her. As she walked to Cersei's bedside, she asked, "So, I assume you have noticed something amiss?"

"When I was – well, I thought I was dying, but apparently not – I felt a burning sensation in my abdomen. I thought I had managed to grievously injure myself, but... But there is something, isn't there? What is it?"

"Cersei, you are with child."

Her mind went immediately and completely blank.

* * *

After several long minutes, Cersei realized Zevran was stroking her hand. Wynne had seated herself next to the bed, and was giving her a slightly amused, expectant look.

A barrage of questions and concerns suddenly flooded her brain. _Alistair said Wardens couldn't have children... right? Does Loghain know? What was the burning... dear Maker, was she carrying a monster?_

Her breathing began to accelerate. Suddenly she heard Zevran's voice, calm as always. "Cersei. Look at me."

_He only calls me that when it's important... _She looked at him. His eyes were warm, as was his hand in hers. The soft, sincere smile that she knew he reserved for her surfaced. _He's so sweet. How did I gain such steadfast loyalty from him? Oh, right..._

She let out a breath. "Thanks, Zev. Do you know that you are a _fantastic _friend? And the only person who makes me feel better than you is none other than the Hero of River Dane?"

His smile widened; he knew Cersei was strong enough to handle anything, especially if she could survive slaying the Archdemon.

She smiled in return, before directing her gaze at Wynne. "Alistair led me to believe that conceiving would be... difficult, to say the least. So how...? And does this mean the Archdemon's soul...?" She wasn't sure she could finish that question. She knew Morrigan had wanted to perform magic that would cause that very situation – but it had been _Cersei_ in bed with Loghain that night, not the witch. That very long, extremely _satisfying_ night. She mentally congratulated herself on that again.

"Difficult to conceive, but obviously not impossible. You are, without a doubt, carrying a child. As for the Archdemon's soul... well, I think it is safe to say that that is a serious possibility. I discovered the pregnancy when I used magic to check for serious internal injuries and... while I have detected unborn children before, many times, this one is... different. It is difficult to explain. Something about it feels slightly... off. However," she began, at Cersei's shocked look, "I can tell you with certainty that you are not carrying darkspawn. This is something completely unexpected. The Wardens that have recently arrived are curious as to how you survived where none has before; I expect it has something to do with the child, but I have said nothing. Now... do you know anything about what may have happened?"

Cersei flinched; maybe Loghain had told Wynne about Morrigan's offer? Wait... she suddenly remembered the strange luminescence from her window the night she and Loghain made sweet, sweet love. Now that she thought about it, it did seem reminiscent of the light emitted when Morrigan shape shifted. "I believe... I believe maybe Morrigan tried to help defeat the Archdemon, after all. How, I cannot say. But if you are sure this is not darkspawn... uh, spawn, that I carry, then I suppose all will be well." _Hopefully._

Wynne nodded, before casting magic over her. Cersei felt the cool ripples of magic move through her and recede, leaving a sense of lassitude behind. "Well child, you appear to be fully mended. And the child appears to be completely healthy for this early stage. Nothing is amiss. You may want to rest a bit more, but if you feel okay you are free to leave the confines of this room as well."

Cersei sighed happily as Wynne turned to go. Then she suddenly jerked forward and said, "Wait! Does Loghain know?"

Wynne paused, and then with the slightest smile replied, "He does." Then she left the room, leaving Cersei and the Antivan behind.

Zevran looked at Cersei, and noticed her eyes were slipping slightly closed. "My dear Warden, you look tired still. Do you wish me to leave?"

She looked at him. "No, please stay. I believe you have earned to right to bask in my glory as I sleep. For once," she said, with a cheeky smile, "you have permission to watch me sleep."

He laughed, and made himself more comfortable as her eyes slowly closed. After watching her die (or so he thought), he was loathe to leave her side. _I hope, my dear, that you are prepared to have an Antivan Crow ever at your back. I am your man, without reservation... this, I swear._

* * *

A little more than an hour later, Loghain burst through the front doors of the palace. His eyes were wild as he moved rapidly in the direction of Cersei's room. As he neared the hallway where her room was located, Wynne came from a room to his right.

"Wynne! She is awake?"

"Yes, but... how in the world did you know that? Haven't you been—"

"I _felt_ her. I have felt the only barest touch of her swimming through my veins for weeks, and a short time ago I felt my awareness of her _surge_. Is she...?"

Wynne was actually starting to... well, not so much like Loghain, but she no longer actively disliked the man. Now she smiled at him (which always unnerved Loghain to no end) and said, "She is alright – as is the babe. And she is anxious to see you, though I believe she is resting again."

Loghain was about to rush off, when he stopped and cocked his head at the elder mage. "You look as though you want to say something, Wynne. What's stopping you? You've never held your tongue for politeness's sake before."

"No, it's nothing."

"Why should that matter? There have been plenty of occasions in the past when you've had nothing to say and said it anyway. Loudly, in fact." He smirked at her.

Wynne huffed. "Loghain, you're not making this any easier."

"My apologies. I should certainly be complaining that you've no vitriol for me."

Wynne rolled her eyes. "I...would rather have something scathing to say to you. But I do not. I...I feel I should admit that I have been mistaken about you."

Loghain's smirk faded. _That_ wasn't what he expected her to say. "As it is a rather brave thing to admit a mistake, I will only say: Thank you. "

The mage's face softened. "Yes. Well, it won't happen again." With that, she moved past him down the hall. He watched her walk back the way he had come for a moment, before he nearly ran the rest of the way to Cersei's room.

He stopped at her door, and took a moment to compose himself. Then he slowly opened the door, so as not to startle her. He saw her laying in the bed, and his heart forgot to beat for a moment. Her eyes were shut, but she had a beautiful smile gracing her perfect face. The elf was there, as well, as he had been for the majority of the last seven weeks. Oddly, this served to reassure him; there was a time when it would have made him jealous, but now he was simply grateful she had a watchful eye on her at all times. Zevran gently nudged the woman in the bed, saying, "Wake up, mia bella. Your Hero is here."

Cersei's eyes snapped open, and her smile widened. "Loghain!" She straightened up in the bed.

Zevran brought her hand to his mouth for a kiss, saying, "I shall return later, my lovely Warden." He rose to leave, knowing they would both desire privacy. As he walked past Loghain, the former general reached out and stopped him.

Loghain opened his mouth, shut it, then tried again. "...Thank you."

Zevran nodded. He knew how Loghain felt. He continued on his way out of the room, and took the time to lock the door behind him (since he doubted either of them would think to do it themselves). A guard was posted outside the door; Zevran decided to give him a friendly warning. "Ignore any... screams or moans you may hear." With that, he winked and sauntered off down the hall, whistling, while the guard just stared open-mouthed at his back.

* * *

For a moment, Loghain just stood there. Then he was rushing to her, holding her, groaning, before he attached his mouth to her own. She giggled into his mouth, before suddenly remembering that _dear Maker she loved this man and why wasn't she kissing him back yet_?! She kissed him, hard, and tried to convey her feelings using the strength of her tongue... She could beat him with a sword, and she would dominate him with her mouth as well lest he forget who was in charge here.

Finally, they had to pull back to breath. "Woman, never do that again."

She smiled, before saying, "I love you. I was – well, I was quite worried when I woke and you weren't here. I did not understand how I was alive, and automatically assumed that you were gone in my place..."

She trailed off. Loghain looked at her for an endless moment, sitting up on the side of her bed before replying, "I love you, as well. I wondered if you were going to wake at all. Your... _companions _have been driving me mad. Though I must say, the elf has grown on me. I have been able to rest easier knowing he was keeping watch over you."

She smiled. She already knew how devoted Zevran was. _Well, I do often inspire feelings in others that they themselves don't understand..._

"So, where are the others? I've only seen you, Zev, and Wynne."

"They are all still in Denerim. I believe your friends have been loathe to leave until you awoke. And... there is someone else, recently arrived and very anxious to see you."

She cocked her head, furrowing her brows. "Who?"

"Your brother."

She froze. Her mouth dropped open, and tears immediately sprung to her eyes. Then a wide smile spread on her face, and she said, "Fergus? How did he... I thought him dead! You're sure it is him?"

His eyebrow arched. "Have you forgotten that I am very well acquainted with all the nobility this land has to offer? Of course I am sure. However, I have not spoken with him personally, so I do not know exactly how he survived. He has been understandably... wary of speaking with me."

She winced. Of course. Fergus would know only the various rumors that had swept Ferelden over the last year. Loghain, looking very uncomfortable, had turned his gaze out the window. She reached for his hand. "Loghain, look at me." His eyes turned back to her own. "I will speak to him. I know it wasn't your fault... Howe acted in secrecy, and there was little you could do after learning he had taken Castle Cousland. I know you needed his support... Look, I bloody hated the man, and I don't regret running a sword through his gut. In fact, given the choice, I'd kill him again. Though, next time I believe I would just lop off his head..." His eyebrow arched again. _Ooh, he is wickedly sexy when he arches that perfect brow. _"But regardless of my feelings for the bastard, I know he was your only solid support. You were being a right arse about it, but I know you were trying to strengthen the land against the darkspawn."

"Will wonders never cease? How is it that you always know how I felt, what I was trying to accomplish, how difficult things were? I never even have to explain my reasoning."

She preened. "Well, I like to believe it is a result of my spectacular logic and reasoning skills, combined with my absolutely _brilliant _powers of deduction. You, sir, are looking at the most intelligent woman in Ferelden."

He snorted. "Yes, so intelligent that you insulted Ferelden's queen, to her face no less."

"I... what?"

"Oh yes, Anora was rather offended that you called her a 'ruthless bitch.' She prefers to think of herself as having 'staunch determination,' apparently."

Cersei grinned. "Oh, I remember now. She said the same thing to me. But I much prefer my way of putting it."

He gave her a look she could not quite decipher. "You know," he began, "you may want to adopt a nicer attitude toward Anora. After all, you _are _sleeping with her father."

She gasped. "Dear Maker, you're right. Wait... does this mean I'll be expected to give her gifts for Satinalia now?"

He laughed. Her taciturn general actually _laughed_. It was such a wonderful sound when he laughed... But just as quickly, he sobered.

"Well, she is going to be family now..." and with that, he looked very pointedly toward her abdomen. She drew her hands over her belly, then said, "I suppose we should discuss that now..."

She looked nervous. _Undoubtedly she thinks this is something I will not want._

"Cersei. My place is at your side now, both as a Warden and as your lover. I relish the idea of having this child with you. If, however, you do not want it... I will still be at your side."

Her eyes teared once again. _When did I become so bloody emotional? Oh, right..._

"Loghain. I... I never even thought I would conceive. Alistair made it sound as though my chances of having children were gone. And now... we somehow beat the odds. I want this child. I want _your_ child."

He smiled and took her hand, slowly raising it to his lips. "Then I believe we are going to be parents." He kissed her hand. She felt her flesh tingle; the warm sensation began to travel up her arm. He then pulled her closer to him and softly kissed her lips. Such gentleness always seemed a bit strange to her, coming from a war hero. The kiss quickly turned passionate, and she began leaning back, pulling him with her. Suddenly she stopped, and said, "Andraste's ass Loghain, why are you still in that bloody armor? As your commanding officer, I must insist that you get it off NOW."

Metal began flying as he hastened to follow her command.

* * *

_That elf was right... Maker preserve me!_ thought the guard posted outside Cersei's room. Somehow, he never quite imagined the former teyrn as being quite so loquacious or, apparently, vigorous in the bedroom. Honestly, he could have died a happy man _not_ knowing, either. The noises had finally ceased several minutes ago; he wondered if they were sleeping – perhaps he could sneak off for a quick bite to eat.

However, before he could actually slink away, the door was unlocked and opened. Loghain Mac Tir stood there, clothed in a loose fitting linen shirt and cotton leggings. "Pardon me, would you mind fetching a meal for the two of us? Make it a large meal – we are quite famished."

The guard nodded and strode off down the hallway. _How lucky for me, now I have an excuse to go raid the kitchen._

Loghain quickly returned to the warmth of the bed. Cersei immediately snuggled into his side. His hand began stroking her hair, almost of its own volition. She yawned, before speaking. "Loghain... are you sure we should have this child? I'm fairly positive this pregnancy and my subsequent survival have something to do with Morrigan..."

He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I've no doubt that it does. However, Wynne and I have spoken about this, and she feels confident the child is not... tainted. As such, I feel that the babe is a blessing, and I welcome this chance to have a child with you."

She smiled and leaned up for a quick kiss. They lay there quietly, wrapped around each other. A short time later, there was a knock on the door before a head poked through. It was the guard, returning with food. He set the food on a table and left without a word.

Loghain snorted when he saw the size of the feast before them. "Well, I suppose this is my doing. I did request a large meal. However, I think this may be more than even two Wardens can put away. There must be enough food here to feed our entire group."

Cersei just laughed and attempted to rise from the bed for the first time. Almost immediately, she had to sit back down. _I should have expected that, I HAVE been laying here for seven weeks..._ She tried again, and though she felt very shaky, Loghain was suddenly at her side to provide support. He helped her pull on some loose clothing before pulling on trousers – he opted to remain shirtless, knowing Cersei would stare at his torso. They walked over to the table and seated themselves, ready to enjoy a carefree meal together.

Just as they were finishing up their meal (of which Cersei managed to put a way a _huge_ portion, even for her), there was a knock at the door. Without waiting for a response, the door burst open to reveal Fergus Cousland. Cersei shrieked in happy surprise, "FERGUS! Brother!" She lurched to her feet and had enough time to begin, "I've missed—" before her long lost brother had her in his arms.

"Dearest sister, I've been so worried! And proud, but mostly worried!" He pulled back and looked at her before leaning in to give her a kiss on the forehead. As he pulled back again, he froze as he realized who was sharing the room with Cersei. His eyes narrowed as he looked toward the former teyrn.

"Loghain... I suppose I shouldn't be surprised to see you here – you've netted yourself quite a catch, haven't you?"

Cersei glowered and slapped his arm. "Fergus, mind your tongue. I daresay I know more about this man's motivations than you do at this point. He is a good man, and I have forgiven him. And hopefully... hopefully, in time, you will too." She paused, before cheekily adding, "Uncle." He gaped at her. _Uncle? I thought that was little more than a fanciful rumor..._

She giggled. "Close your mouth brother, you'll attract flies."

His mouth snapped shut, and his eyes darted rapidly between Cersei and Loghain. "I honestly... did not believe the stories. You are really having a child – _his_ child?"

She restrained the urge to roll her eyes. "Yes, Fergus. _His_ child. Much has changed since I saw you last. I... I understand Loghain like few others. And as disappointing as it may be for you, I'm afraid I am in love with him."

Loghain felt no small sense of relief. He had been afraid that, if nothing else, her only surviving family member's disapproval would drive her away. He stood up.

"Cersei, I believe I shall give you and your brother some time alone. I'll be back later." He leaned toward her, and planted a gentle kiss on her slightly pouty lips. Then he turned to Fergus, and said, with arched brow, "Teyrn Cousland, always a pleasure." As he walked away, he smirked. No doubt Fergus was making some kind of strange face at his backside.

After Loghain closed the door behind him, Fergus whirled to face his sister. "Alright Cersei, I must know. Do you really _love_ him? He hasn't had you put under the spell of a blood mage, has he? Wait, you wouldn't know if he did... or would you? How do I know—"

Cersei cut him off. "Fergus, I really do love him. And even if I didn't know whether or not I was under a blood mage's thrall, Wynne certainly would."

His brows drew together. "Then why—"

"Fergus! If you would calmly sit down, I will tell you what you are so desperate to know. Now, sit!"

He sat. "Dear Maker, now you sound like Mother... Now explain to me why you are bedding the man responsible for her death."

She grimaced. "Loghain was not responsible for her death. Howe was. And I gutted him myself. Did you know that even with his dying breath, he was telling me that he deserved more? That man..." Cersei stopped for a moment as tears started to form in her eyes. She inhaled a deep, shuddering breath before continuing, "That man was our friend. Father and he fought together for years, we grew up with his children... His son Nathaniel gave me my first kiss when I was only eleven! It was so hard that night, discovering he had betrayed us..."

"But Loghain sent him, no? Didn't he think the Couslands to be traitors?"

That... was actually a bit of information she had yet to discuss with Loghain. However, she did not let her momentary hesitation show. "Brother, Howe absolutely acted without Loghain's knowledge. He did not learn about it until I showed up at Ostagar, with stories about being the last of my kin. I know the man, Fergus, and he was genuinely shocked at what occurred. You know as well as I that Father and Loghain were comrades. Don't you remember, how there was that brief discussion of wedding Anora and yourself?" She laughed gaily. "Father honestly believed that I may have been a better choice for Cailan. But our former king had eyes only for Anora. Thank goodness."

Fergus had forgotten about that. "I suppose it is a good thing our new king survived the Blight then, or someone may have tried to arrange the queen and myself again."

Cersei laughed again. "I think she's a bit too headstrong for the likes of you."

Fergus smiled, before sobering again. "Okay, so you say Loghain didn't know... so why wasn't Howe punished? And what about bloody Ostagar?"

She sighed. "Howe was one of his only supporters. He may have been going about it the completely _wrong_ way, but Loghain was trying to unite this land to fight the darkspawn. He abandoned Ostagar because there were simply too many darkspawn. The king's army was overwhelmed, and Loghain had attempted to convince Cailan that it was a battle we could not win. Had Loghain not pulled out that day, we would have been left with no army at all."

Fergus scoffed. "Surely—"

"No, Fergus. You were not there. I was at a meeting with Loghain and Cailan just before the battle. I saw the horde. I nearly died myself, at the Tower of Ishal. There were simply too many. And frankly, Loghain has worked at atonement. I could not have defeated the Archdemon without him." She smirked. _Oh Fergus, if only you knew ALL the ways he helped me survive. Wink, wink._

Fergus slumped backward, looking defeated. "Alright sister. As I honestly believe you have never lied to me before, I suppose it follows that you must be telling the truth now, as well. But do not blame me for not experiencing feelings of instant forgiveness." He looked down at his lap, before perking back up and looking at her with a smile.

"Now, how far along are you?"


	8. Chapter 8

After a year, I have finally updated this story again. You can thank the fact that at the age of 31, I finally bought myself a laptop. Updates will probably continue to be sparse, however, while I finish grad school. But thank you for reading, and I'm sure you know I own none of the stuff contained in this story.

* * *

Cersei awoke early the next morning. She had spoken with Fergus for several hours, and was quite convinced that he had mostly forgiven Loghain. If nothing else, he was certainly excited about becoming an uncle. It was only a matter of time, she felt, before she and Loghain received Fergus's blessing and approval. At least, she hoped so. A smile crossed her face; Loghain was warm against her back, still sleeping. His hand was firm against her lower abdomen, protecting their child even in sleep.

She lay there for several long minutes, content in immeasurable ways. Her mind drifted slowly as she thought about all she needed to do now that she was awake. Her friends were hoping to see her soon, and the Wardens wanted to meet with her. And Loghain – they had a life to plan now. This thought thrilled her, and she snuggled closer to him. After some time, however, she became aware of a sense of unease filling her slowly. Her brow furrowed as she tried to think of what the problem could be. There was no sense of darkspawn, only the gentle buzz of Loghain. Wait – there _was_ something... almost like a subtle echo of Loghain. _It must be the child_, she thought. Still, the unease was growing. She was beginning to feel almost claustrophobic from the feeling.

Without warning, a sharp pain lanced through her. She moaned, and pulled away from Loghain almost violently. He woke with a start, then immediately reached for her.

"Cersei? What is it?"

She curled into a ball. "Loghain, I don't..." Her words dissolved into another moan. Fire was tearing through her abdomen.

Loghain's face whitened, and he snatched the sheet around his waist as he ran for the door. Yanking it open, he called, "Fetch the mage. Hurry!" He didn't even bother closing the door as he ran back to Cersei's side. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her jaw was clenched, and sweat shone in large beads on her brow. He reached for her hand and she gripped it, squeezing compulsively.

Wynne nearly flew into the room. Taking only a moment to survey the situation, she set to work casting her magic. The minutes dragged by endlessly before the pain seemed to suddenly snap, receding just as quickly as it had arrived. Cautiously Cersei opened her eyes. The fire was gone, replaced by a gentle, persistent throbbing – almost like a heartbeat. A soft smile rose to her face, but faltered as she took in Wynne's grim visage.

"...Wynne?"

The elder mage sighed. "Child, there may yet be a problem. Your womb... appears to be trying to reject the babe. My magic has stopped it, but I cannot promise it will be enough." She sank into a chair, obviously saddened by her inability to do more.

Cersei's heart stopped, and dimly she was aware of a roaring in her ears. After a long moment, Loghain squeezed her hand and her heart resumed beating. She inhaled quickly and deeply; she suddenly felt she could not get enough air. She held her breath for a moment, and as she released it the tears began.

"Wh-what can I... What can I do?" she wailed. Loghain pulled her to his chest, and she collapsed into his arms.

Wynne knew the answer. As heartbreaking as it was, Cersei was, inevitably, going to lose this baby. She didn't have the strength to tell the Warden this yet, however.

"Just rest, my dear, and pray that the Maker will keep the babe safe." With that, she caught Loghain's eye. "Call if you need me." The look in her eye was clear – she would be expecting it, and soon. Loghain closed his eyes, and wept silently with his beloved.

* * *

After a time, her tears slowed. She dozed, feeling secure in Loghain's warm embrace. Perhaps an hour passed before she roused herself again. Loghain was still holding her; she felt him stroke her hair, and leaned into his hand. When he felt her move, he kissed the top of her head. She pulled back, and he looked at her face. She looked rather haggard, but she had a soft smile for him. He leaned forward and brushed her lips in a gently kiss before asking, "How are you feeling?"

She took a moment to answer. "I feel... mostly alright. It's strange though, I still feel a... well, almost a pulsing sensation. But it's not painful. That's a good sign?" He could hear the question, but he didn't know how to respond. He was reasonably certain that this would not end well for her. For _them_.

He loved her. He no longer questioned why or how – he simply embraced it. But he couldn't help wonder – if she lost the babe, as she surely would, would she still want to be with him? Perhaps. Perhaps not. His wife had suffered a similar tragedy, and it had driven a wedge between them. But Cersei... he inherently knew it would not be the same. The love he felt for this redheaded spitfire far exceeded any feelings he ever had for Celia. In fact, he suspected it surpassed even the love he felt for Rowan.

Cersei's pseudo-confident face was beginning to falter. He leaned in to kiss her again, before replying, "My love, no matter what happens, we will be alright. And I will love you always. I believe—" he began, when she opened her mouth to speak, "—that everything will work out. Now... have you thought of any names for our babe?"

That stopped her cold. She had barely even come to terms with the thought of having a child, so of course she had not considered a name yet. The thought had never even entered her head.

After a moment, she spoke. "If Fergus had not survived, I might have considered his name for a son. I suppose I should name him for my father..." She was not conscious of it, but a little flicker of dismay crossed her face. _Interesting. It seems she does not, in fact, desire the name Bryce for a child._

"Cersei. Love. Choose a name that you truly desire. Your family would never disapprove of you choosing a name that you love over a name you felt obligated to pick."

She turned her eyes to Loghain. It amazed her, how he was able to put voice to her incoherent thoughts and feelings at a time like this. She loved her father, and missed him terribly, but...

"Karac. I have always wanted to name a son Karac."

His face turned thoughtful. "Karac? I've not heard that name before." Her face fell briefly, before he added, "I don't say that as a bad thing. In fact, I like it more for its uniqueness."

She smiled. "I read it in a book when I was a child. Old Aldous was always happy to provide more books for me, you know. He didn't think I retained much of the information, but he still found it preferable to my swordplay." Her eyes lost focus briefly, as a wave of nostalgia hit her. Just as quickly, they refocused on his own as she continued. "There was this tale, about a minstrel from long ago. He was born in Ferelden, in the time of Calenhad. He traveled all over... Orlais, Antiva, Tevinter – it was even rumored he sailed to lands beyond what we know. And he left a wife and child in Ferelden."

Loghain cocked his head at her. "Left them? As in—"

"No," she cut him off, "just when he would travel to perform. He always made time to come back, and sing songs of distant lands to his son. But while he was gone on one such trip... just before he was to begin singing at an inn, a messenger burst through the door looking for him. His son had died rather suddenly, from some type of stomach problem. It was many years before he began traveling to such distant lands again."

Loghain eyed her speculatively for a moment, before slowly saying, "But this choice is about more than simply liking a name, isn't it?"

She smiled slightly. "I just always thought... well, I thought it immensely sad that the child was lost so young – only five years old, you know – and I believed Karac should be allowed to live on, at least in name. So..."

He smiled back at her. "Your compassion knows no bounds, my lady Cousland. Karac will be a perfect name for our son."

Cersei leaned forward and planted a gentle kiss on his lips. "Karac Mac Tir. Thank you." After one more gentle caress of lips, she leaned back into her pillows. The pulsing feeling was still present in her abdomen, but she felt curiously relieved. Loghain stood from the bed, and said, Cersei closed her eyes as Loghain dressed in his Warden armor. With no conversation to distract her, however, she noticed she was more conscious of that persistent throbbing sensation. Her brow furrowed; Loghain noticed, and realized she desperately needed something to focus on.

"So what if the child is a girl?"

She opened her eyes and looked at him, the throbbing suddenly forgotten. _Pity, he's already fully dressed_. She smiled smugly and replied, "It's not. I just... have a feeling."

He snorted. "A feeling, you say? Need I remind you that I myself _had a feeling_ that you were part of an Orlesian conspiracy to destroy Ferelden?"

She crinkled her nose. "This is different and you bloody well know it! I, for one," and here her nose rose into the air haughtily, "am not twelve kinds of paranoid."

Loghain gaped at her for a moment, before throwing his head back and laughing. She couldn't help chuckling herself; it was so rare to see him laugh. After a moment, he said, "Oh my dear lady, you have... quite a way with words. It is little wonder you wheedled half of Ferelden into following you into battle."

She smirked. "I believe it was my way with words combined with my impeccable judgment calls. Perhaps even my brilliant strategizing. And you have to admit, people _do _love watching me with a sword..."

He smiled at her before walking towards the door. "Rest now, please. I have to go attend to some duties regarding the Wardens. Do you want any company while I am away?"

She wondered how long this feeling of being hopelessly in love would last as she looked at him. "I would like to see if any of my companions are here. If not, please send Zev. If I can't have you, he will suffice."

"As you wish." With that, he left the room. Loathe though he was to leave her, especially at a time like this, he knew he could not shirk his duties. Wardens had arrived from Weisshaupt, and were anxious for answers about Cersei's continued survival. He was trying to hold them off until Cersei was well enough to withstand their interrogation.

As he walked towards a common area that her companions had been frequenting, Zevran suddenly appeared from the shadows. "Ah, my taciturn Warden, have you finally pried yourself from her side?"

Loghain looked at the elf from the corner of his eye, and continued walking. "Some of us have duties to attend to, and unfortunately do not have countless hours to wile away gazing at our commander's lovely face."

Zevran laughed. He quickly sobered when the former teyrn said, "I need you to stay with her while I am occupied. I will send some of your fellows to see her as well, but I trust none as much as you to keep her happy." _And safe_, was the unspoken addition to his thought. Zevran seemed to understand though, nodding swiftly before disappearing in the direction of her chambers.

Loghain poked his head in to the common area, and noticed Leliana sitting near a fire, slowly plucking strings on a lute. Before he could speak, she turned her head and said, "Hello, Loghain. I gather our lovely lady Cousland is awake and ready to see someone other than you?"

He chuckled. "Yes, woman." Leliana was on her feet before his words were finished forming. "But would you possibly notify some of the others, as well?" His brows furrowed, but his eyes twinkled playfully. "She seems to have actually _missed _some of you."

The bard breezed past him. "Of course!"

He stood and watched her rapidly move down the hallway. Shaking his head, he turned and moved to seek the visiting Wardens.

* * *

Cersei was sitting up in her bed, listening to Zevran spin tales about his days as a Crow. The mindless chatter (and his all too frequent flirtations) had her mind completely occupied. Just as she opened her mouth to ask a question, however, the door suddenly flew open and a mabari hound was flying in to her face.

"DOG!" she shrieked with joy. She threw her arms around Dog, and her face was immediately covered with slobbery kisses from her precious hound. She was vaguely aware of Zevran speaking in the background. "If I had known she enjoyed tongue all over her face, I would have been more than happy to oblige..."

With a happy bark, Dog wiggled away from her face and toward the end of her bed. Looking up, she saw Leliana, Oghren, Alistair, and even Sten filing in to her room. _No Morrigan... I suppose she truly left for good. _She refused to let her smile falter, though, since she was so happy to see everyone else. Leliana and Alistair both rushed forward to try to hug her simultaneously, while Oghren and Sten lingered near the foot of her bed. The feeling of so many warm arms wrapped around her was wondrous, and she could not stop tears from flowing.

Alistair was the first to pull back, and the first to speak. "Cersei, we... we wondered if you would ever wake." He narrowed his eyes at her. "I think you were trying to sleep through my coronation and subsequent... _wedding_." He gave a dramatic shudder and grinned to show he was joking. She smiled, and wiped her eyes. "Alistair, you know I would not miss your wedding. I think... well, actually, I must know – how are things going between you and Anora?"

His grin faded into a small but genuine smile. "Well, if you must know, I finally stopped seeing her father every time I looked at her. So I suppose it may work out, after all."

Cersei threw her pillow at him. "Anora does not look like her father! Well, maybe when she is angry... they do share that baleful glare. But she's just not as pretty as Loghain."

Alistair grimaced. "I don't think _pretty_ is the word to describe him."

Leliana chose that moment to practically scream, "Dearest Warden, do not ever scare me like that again! I've had no one to do my shopping with me, did you know I found the most adorable shoes down in the market..."

Cersei hugged Leliana tighter, before meeting Sten's lavender eyes. He inclined his head, and spoke. "Kadan, we have been concerned. But now that you have finally woken, I must admit that there is no finer warrior in all of Ferelden." He bowed deeply, and Cersei was moved beyond words. After a moment of gaping, she managed to murmer, "Thank you, Sten. It was an honor to fight at your side, every step of the way." He smiled, before moving to leave the room. He hesitated as he reached the door, before turning and saying, "I will remain in Ferelden until Alistair's coronation, at which point I must return to Seheron." After a small pause, he added, "Panahedan, kadan."

Cersei smiled as Leliana began chattering in her ear again. _As much as I love her, I only hear so much white noise right now... _Looking around, she noticed Oghren had wandered over to the window and was attempting to surreptitiously guzzle some undoubtedly foul liquor from a rather large flask.

"Oghren, you dog! I see you survived the final battle!"

He spun around, face flushed. "Aye Warden, you should know it takes more than a few darkspawn to hurt me. And, uh, I should thank you..." His flush darkened. "Felsi came 'round after the battle here in Denerim, and that wouldn't have happened if you hadn't helped me woo her." He coughed, before adding, "But anyway, I'm glad you're awake. Rest up, you never know when we'll have to charge in to battle again."

Her eyes widened as he too left the room. "Battle? Is there something I should know?"

Alistair replied, "It's nothing serious. There have been roving bands of darkspawn still, but Loghain has been hard at work ridding the lands nearby. And, you know, trying to attract new Wardens."

Cersei was alarmed by this news. Surely the darkspawn should have retreated with the death of the Archdemon? And why was Loghain the only person working to eradicate the remnants of the horde? _Oh, right. One of the Wardens has been sleeping for half her life, and the other is trying to rule a kingdom thanks to the efforts of the sleeping beauty._

"Alistair, shouldn't the darkspawn threat have ended when I killed the Archdemon?"

The former Warden glanced at Leliana, who had ceased her chattering, and then looked to Zevran. "Well... you see, as far as we know, they should have. We don't really know why there are still so many darkspawn around, and it's kind of one of the questions the other Wardens want to ask you..."

Zevran winced visibly, and Leliana rolled her eyes as Cersei yelped, "What?"

Alistair met her gaze sheepishly and said, "Oh, did I mention there are some Grey Wardens here from Weisshaupt? They are... quite curious as to how you are still alive."

She couldn't help but grit her teeth. If she didn't, she would surely yell at the idiot king sitting in front of her. "Dearest Alistair, did you never stop to think that maybe I have NO IDEA WHY I AM STILL ALIVE? I SHOULD—"

Zevran cut her off. "Cara mia, you know our friend Alistair is sweet but slow, yes?"

"Hey! I resent that!"

The elf cleared his throat before continuing, "Warden, the fact remains that we do not know why you still grace us with your presence... but I, for one, am infinitely grateful to the Maker for allowing you to remain with us."

Cersei leaned back, somewhat mollified by her favorite assassin's response. Looking to Alistair again, she said, "I suppose they want to meet with me, then?"

The supreme ruler of Ferelden was somehow unable to bring himself to meet her eyes as he muttered, "Yes. As soon as you are able. Which," he chanced a look at her face, "I don't imagine will be today?"

She heaved a sigh. "No, Alistair. I believe you are very much aware of how difficult the last few weeks have been for me. Tell them I slumber yet."

His face reddened. She rolled her eyes, before saying, "Let me guess, you already told them I finally woke up? I swear to the Maker Alistair, sometimes I wonder why I don't just let you experience life as a woman..."

Alistair yelped as his hands reflexively flew towards his groin. "How about, uh, I just tell them that, uh, I may have been... mistaken? Yes, very much mistaken! It was actually Dog that woke! Wait, they've been feeding Dog scraps, they'll never believe that..."

He stood and strode towards the door, muttering as he went. Just before he reached the hall, Cersei called, "Please, Alistair, just hold them off until tomorrow at least?"

He stopped and turned, and for a moment Cersei saw the regal demeanor that would surely lead him to a successful rule. "Of course, Warden. And," he said, as his grin broke through his facade again, "I am so glad that you are still with us." He winked, then continued out of her room leaving only Zevran and Leliana with her. The beautiful bard seemed content to simply lay at her side, saying nothing. Cersei's eyes began to feel heavy, and as they slipped closed she heard the faint sound of Leliana humming. Gentle hands began to stroke her hair, and she was dimly aware of a strong and calloused hand taking her hand and gripping it tenderly. Moments later, she was asleep, the ache in her belly momentarily forgotten.

* * *

Cersei woke several hours later, frightened. A pervasive feeling of dread had penetrated her dreams, twisting them until horrific images filled her mind. She sat up quickly, realizing that Zevran's hand was still loosely clasped in her own; the dashing elf had fallen asleep at her side. Leliana was nowhere to be seen, and the dusky light of the setting sun was filling her room. A nightmare had woken her, but the pain in her womb flared sharply as she roused. In a moment of clarity, she realized that the child was not going to survive. Tears flooded her eyes, blinding her and taking her breath away.

Zevran must have hear her struggling for breath, for he was suddenly on the bed next to her. He pulled her head to his chest and murmured gently in Antivan. She could not understand everything he said, but it still calmed her enough to speak.

"Zev... I need—" she inhaled deeply as pain swept through her again, releasing a fresh flood of tears.

"I need Wynne, please... and Lo..."

Words failed her after that, and nothing but whimpers passed her lips. Zevran kissed her forehead before leaping from the bed and silently exiting the room. The minutes crawled by as fire lanced through her and she struggled to remain calm. She heard rapid footsteps, followed by Wynne's appearance at her door. Loghain was close behind. Cersei reached her hand toward him with a sob as Wynne rushed to the end of her bed.

The mage was already casting, but she realized almost immediately that this was going to end badly for Cersei. Tendrils of magic snaked through the Warden's body, and Wynne recognized the signs all too well – the babe would be lost within moments. Cersei was writhing as the elder mage desperately tried to ease her pain. Loghain was attempting to hold his love steady, but the pain was apparently too great.

Wynne called out, "Loghain, _hold her._ I need her still or I can't help..." Sweat was beading on her brow as she attempted to do something, anything, for Cersei.

Just as quickly as the attack had come on, it seemed to cease. The Warden beat her hands uselessly against Loghain's chest three times, then she collapsed against him with a low moan.

He froze, unsure of what had just happened. He turned his gaze to Wynne. "Is she...?"

The mage, however, looked grim. "She is not okay. She has fainted, but that is for the best. I need to..." Wynne looked away, eyes glistening. "I need to perform a spell that will completely remove the babe from her."

A look of shock crossed his face. "What? Is there nothing else you can do?"

She shook her head slowly. "I'm so sorry, Teyrn Loghain. The kindest thing to do is to help her womb expel the child."

His eyes closed, and he clutched Cersei tightly. "Just... just do it, please. Will she feel pain?"

"No. She will feel no physical pain."

He nodded, understanding. Wynne's hands moved in a complex aerial dance, and Cersei glowed a faint blue. Long moments passed before the woman he loved seemed to suddenly slump against him before rousing.

"Loghain? What...?"

He pulled her close. "Hush, darling. I'm here. Are you in pain?"

Cersei tried to focus on herself. She felt strangely light, as though something important was missing. With a gasp, she realized she could no longer feel the strange buzz that signaled the presence of her child. Glancing down, she noticed there was a rather large bloodstain beneath her thighs.

"No. No no no no no NO." She started trying to scoot back on the bed, unwilling to believe the life's blood of her son was currently soaking into the bed beneath her. Tears began streaking down her cheeks again as she continued to scream.

"NO! NO! Loghain, why? Wynne, why didn't you stop it? MAKER, NO!"

Loghain reached for her, but she pulled away. He recoiled, stung by her rejection. Just as quickly, however, he was reaching for her again when she started to wail. This time, she accepted his arms and buried her face in his chest as her wails turned to screams of agony.

Wynne looked exhausted already, but cast another spell – this time, to calm the hysterical woman lying in her own blood. Cersei's screams abruptly stopped as the magic soothed her. A moment later, she looked at Wynne and piteously asked, "Why?"

The mage wasn't sure how to respond without causing more pain. "Child, sometimes—"

Cersei gasped again. "Child? _My _child is gone..."

Wynne tried again. "Sometimes a mother's body rejects the babe. It is not your fault." Cersei was crying silently again. Wynne moved closer to grasp her hand. "I have done what I could for you. I will call someone to change your bedding."

"No. I need to move rooms. I can't be here. I can't..." Her eyes drifted down towards the crimson stain again. Loghain grabbed her chin and forced her to look away, to look instead at him.

"Love, I insist you move to my room. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner, to be honest."

Cersei smiled at him, but he noticed the smile did not reach her eyes. "Thank you. Wynne... when will I feel the pain?"

The senior mage looked at the Warden before replying. "I expect within the next two or three hours. If you would like, I can leave a potion with you, or you can call for me again."

Cersei was already shaking her head. "Just leave a potion. You look exhausted..."

Wynne nodded sympathetically before leaving the room. Loghain stood and gathered the very few possessions of hers littered around the room. For the first time, she noticed that her swords – including Starfang – and armor had been in the room with her. Her armor, handcrafted by Wade, had a dark crimson stain on it. She suddenly realized that she would rather eat her own face than see that armor, bearing a stain so like the one on her bed.

"Get rid of the armor," she hissed.

He looked at her, an eyebrow cocked in confusion. Glancing at the armor, he realized why she would have a sudden aversion to her magnificent set of armor. Without a word, he dropped it into the corner. Striding to the door, he was not able to even call for help before Zevran appeared. The elf slid into the room and to her side, ready to lend a hand. Loghain hesitated, then said, "Help her to my quarters," as he left the room.

Zevran leaned down to pick her up. Cersei tried to pull away unsuccessfully, saying, "Zev! I'm far too heavy for you."

"Ah, mi amor, I think you underestimate the strength of my love for you." He winked at her, inwardly cringing at how light she actually was after her extended stay in bed.

She surprised herself by chuckling – barely – at his lighthearted flirtation. Leaning her head on to his chest, she closed her eyes and settled herself in for the walk to Loghain's chambers. The pain she knew was coming had not set in yet, so she reveled in the feeling of warmth generated by Zevran carrying her – Zev, who was one of only two people she trusted so completely. Her thoughts drifted as he moved. She loved Loghain. She was devastated by the loss of her child. She was scared of the inevitable loss of her companions. Unconciously she gripped Zevran's shoulder and whimpered, "No." He glanced down at her. He was unsure how to help her – he felt so strongly for her, but knew her heart belonged to Loghain. Nevertheless, he felt the only way he could help was to remain ever at her side.

He glanced down again and saw her eyes crack open.

"We are almost there, my dear Warden. Now hush, you need your rest."

"Will you stay with me?"

He chuckled. "Oh no, mi amor. I do believe your handsome teyrn will remain with you. But," he sobered quickly, "you know you have only to call for me and I will be there."

Her eyes slipped closed again and she smiled sadly. "I know. And... thank you."

"Of course," he replied as he slipped into Loghain's room. The former teyrn was waiting, and motioned toward the bed. Setting the redheaded Warden lightly onto the bed, Zevran cast a last wistful look at her – seen but not mentioned by Loghain – before leaving the room. He watched the assassin leave with a thoughtful look on his face, before turning to Cersei.

She opened her eyes enough to search out his face, then murmured, "I love you, Loghain." Her eyes could not stay open, however. She was so tired – so many of her muscles ached right now, and she knew more pain was on the way. As she began to drift away, she heard Loghain say, "I love you always, my Lady Cousland. Sleep well."


End file.
